


Nursing Professor Pompous

by MaiasPen



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: "EGOSHIP", "EGOSHIPPER", "Egoshipping", "GAML", "GARY and MISTY", F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 23:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17838092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiasPen/pseuds/MaiasPen
Summary: COMPLETE! Misty hit Gary Oak with her car. Okay. Rewind. She didn't do it on purpose. Although, after spending an entire evening playing 'nursemaid' to the obnoxious, ungrateful (and absurdly handsome) professor . . . she didn't think anyone would blame her if she did. Egoshipping. Gary X Misty.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> COVER ART: I have commissioned pro cover art by the amazing wooserr! Please see my website (find the link on my profile page ego shipper dot com) to enjoy Gary and Misty in all of their glory! Gary sure looks dang sexy for a guy in his condition. ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: You are about to embark on a little Egoshipper. I have rated this story TEEN as it involves some adult situations and sexual-innuendoes. If "sexy humor" isn't your thing, then you probably ought to skip this tale. I'm but a humble Gary fangirl providing a fangirl service.  
> Please review!

Chapter 1

I hit Gary Oak with my car.

A firm tap upon Misty's shoulder snapped her from her stupefied shock. This firm finger belonged to Officer Jenny, she had just departed Professor Gary Oak's room in the Emergency Ward of the Lumiose City hospital. Misty had been sitting anxiously in the waiting room for over an hour and under strict police orders not to leave.

"Well, Miss Waterflower, you're in luck," Officer Jenny's tone was matter-of-fact, "Professor Oak isn't pressing charges."

Misty inhaled deeply for the first time since realizing that she hadn't backed into an Oak tree, but rather a real Oak person. "Thank you," she really meant it.

"Don't thank me, thank Professor Oak." Officer Jenny raised a scrutinizing eyebrow. "When you backed into him his shoe caught on the curb! The professor lost his balance and banged his head on the pavement, knocking him out cold! He has a broken foot and will be in a cast for the next 6-8 weeks."

"That's so awful! Can I please see him? I would like to apologize and thank him, in person."

"Yes, Miss Waterflower. He's asked me to send you in. Room E-7. Since we've already filled out the accident report and insurance paperwork, I am all done with you."

"Thank you, Officer Jenny. I am SO sorry." Misty bowed her head, shame devouring the relief she had just dared to feel. Misty was ever-so-thankful that the young professor was not suing her or pressing any charges at all. But the guilt festering in her stomach was nearly unbearable. A broken foot! 6-8 weeks in a cast! And she was to blame.

Officer Jenny only nodded. The skeptical look in her eyes communicated that: she could not believe Professor Gary Oak was letting Misty off, scot-free. Misty couldn't blame her, neither could she.

What a day!

Misty blinked back tears as she made her way toward room E-7. What were the chances of backing into a person today – let alone Ash Ketchum's childhood rival, Gary Oak! What would Ash's reaction be when he found out? Her best friend teased her for making any odd clumsy mistake, but he was going to roast her 'Flareon-style' for this one! Since Gary was indeed okay, Ash was going to find extreme hilarity in the situation. But Misty would have her mallet ready to shut him up! Ash aside, what was everyone else going to think of her? That she was a menace, an airhead, an irresponsible danger to society?! What was Gary going to say when she walked into his hospital room? Misty grimaced because, deep-down, she knew that Gary's opinion was the only one that actually mattered.

Misty had not even seen Gary Oak in person for several years. Running the Gym full-time was so demanding that Misty rarely left Cerulean City these days. She had only heard through the gossip chain (AKA Professor Samuel Oak Senior to Delia Ketchum to Ash to her) that Gary was now a hotshot Pokemon researcher.

Allegedly he had obtained three doctoral graduate degrees before most of his peers completed an undergraduate one, blah blah blah. Or some other such unbelievable brainiac feat. Whether or not that was entirely accurate, Gary Oak was - at the very least- a Professor of Pokemon. He was obviously a young man of importance. Misty was counting her lucky Staryus that he wasn't having her thrown in jail!

Earlier today Misty had been shopping for Net Balls at the Lumiose Pokeball boutique. The shops in Kanto did not sell Net Balls in bulk, therefore, once or twice a year she would take a boat to the Kalos region to stock up.

Misty had rented a small hatchback and filled it to the roof with boxes and boxes of Net Balls. She had been - admittedly - overzealous upon seeing the sale prices and bought several more boxes than usual. In fact, she had purchased so many boxes that she could barely cram them all into the vehicle. Her rear windshield view was obstructed.

Misty was a cautious driver and she distinctly remembered glancing into her side mirrors before shifting into reverse. At that moment she swore that the parking lot was clear! But . . . then there was a thud. She had backed into something - bumping it hard - and immediately slammed on her breaks! Misty leapt into action, rushing out of the car and praying that she had not hit a Pokemon! It never occurred to her that there would be a human behind her. And yet, there he was: a brunette man laying face down on the pavement, completely unconscious.

Fast forward through a call to emergency services, the arrival of the ambulance, police, insurance agent and, well, here she was now. Walking toward room E-7 . . .to face the guy she almost ran over.

Misty did not even recognize that she had hit Gary. It was not until Officer Jenny arrived on the scene that she identified Misty's "victim" as the young professor.

Misty wondered if Gary Oak would even remember her from their childhood? A part of her hoped not. Gary was an unbearably obnoxious child. Each time his path crossed her, Brock and Ash it ended in a fight (and usually tears of frustration from Ash). Gary incessantly flaunted his superior everything in front of his rival.

Misty would rather risk roasting marshmallows on a wild Magmar than be in the company of young Gary Oak!

In addition to behaving like a pompous, spoiled jerk, Gary Oak looked like one too.

Childhood Gary had these infuriatingly cute dimples that surfaced on his checks when he boasted of his latest Pokemon catch. And the way he would haughtily frisk his fingers through those long spikes of hair, bragging away, UGH! It was annoying how his hair looked perfectly soft and silky like Eevee fur. BLAH! And his completion?! Misty didn't even want to get started listing her complains about his skin. How was his skin always clear and tan?! TAN! Even when they would cross paths in a blizzard! The little punk never seemed to get a zit! And Misty definitely did NOT want to even think about his eyes. Those aggravating twin sapphires . . . they flared with such ego, such challenge. Fangirls swarmed around Gary constantly, like pathetic starving Fearow's, desperate for him to just glance their way with those confident eyes. How the hell could a human being even have eyes bluer than the lake Misty trained her Pokemon in? Blah! Every time she was around him her face was hot, her cheeks flushed . . . burning as though she HAD been making smores via Magmar. UGH!

And THAT is how angry young Gary Oak made young Misty Waterflower.

Gary Oak was obviously pathetic back then. But, considering how he was now a three time doctoral graduate and research scientist blah blah blah, then certainly he would be able to handle her accidental bumping into him maturely now, right?

Misty had no reason to be nervous in facing him. After all, she reminded herself again, you aren't in jail. And if anything he probably owed her an apology for causing a list of childhood frustrations.

Approaching room E-7, Misty quickly checked her reflection in a nearby window. She needed to look like she was a respectable member of society who just had some bad luck with a car. Misty was dressed in a cute sea-foam green romper that nearly matched the shade of her eyes. It was a modest, though stylish outfit with a high neck and length that fell just past her knees. Misty had outgrown her teenage 'tom boy' body and developed a curvy figure to match her older sisters. Years of daily swim-training had made Misty physically fit. Growing up living in swimsuits and mid-drift tops, Misty was never shy about her figure, but she rarely flaunted it as outwardly as her sisters did. Unless of course she were flaunting her bare skin for her ex-boyfriend, Chaz.

Chaz. Ugh. Why did she have to think about him now?

Not unlike young Gary Oak, Chaz could often behave like an ego-maniac jerk. Their long-distance, multi-year relationship ended a few months ago and it did not end well. Chaz had left Misty sour to even the idea of dating.

Chaz was a rising star on the battle scene, he had won the Indigo League Conference last year. He always traded, caught and fought with the latest and greatest Pokemon. Misty never had the chance to gain attachments to any of his monsters because she rarely saw him battle with the same one more than a few times. Later in their relationship, Misty finally learned why. Chaz abandoned — gave up on — nearly all of his Pokemon. If a Pokemon wasn't a superior, flawless battle partner out of gate: then it was GOODBYE. Chaz's expectations were entirely unrealistic. The guy was over-the-top competitive and crushed his Pokemons spirits under the pressure to WIN. His Pokemon lived in constant fear that they would end up discarded and homeless after every lost fight! What Chaz called "motivation" Misty called "cruelty". Misty had been initially charmed by Chaz's good looks and personality. The young man was loaded with street-smarts and wise-cracks that kept her entertained and on her toes. And Chaz was certainly romantic . . . a wonderful kisser, she recalled bitterly, and his skillset in the bedroom was . . .wow! BUT! Chaz's treatment toward his Pokemon . . .

That was a deal-breaker for Misty.

As though trying to pull Chaz from her thoughts, Misty pulled her long ginger locks into the neatest Ponyta-tail she could. She now looked presentable. Certainly not like a person who would purposely try to commit vehicular manslaughter!

She focused on door E-7 and on the apology she needed to convey.

Misty raised her fist and knocked on the door.

To her great surprise Professor Oak senior, Samuel Oak, was standing on the other side, beckoning her to come in. The senior Oak looked the same as he always had, even clad in his traditional white lab coat.

"Misty! Fancy bumping into you like this, pun intended! C'mon in!" The senior Oak winked and hugged her with such gusto that he actually lifted her off her feet.

"Awkward, gramps," came another voice from within the room. "That girl RAN. ME. OVER."

And there was the younger one: Professor Gary Oak.

Misty was struck with an instant mega-watt bolt of annoyance! Gary looked like a hunky actor on the set of a TV hospital drama! The man was too absurdly attractive to have just endured being hit by a car and hospitalized. How dare he! Couldn't at least one hair be out of place?! THE NERVE!

The young professor lay in a hospital bed, dressed in a long-sleeved green checkered gown. His right foot was casted and elevated by a sling. Misty wasn't sure what part of his foot had been broken, but judging from the size of the cast, it must have been a very bad break. The plaster encased his entire foot and shin. His big man toes were sticking out from the end of the cast. Misty noted that Gary's toes were neat-looking. He probably enjoyed more regular pedicures than she did! Gary's lower lip was swollen and a bandage was wrapped around his right hand. His hair was still a wild array of cinnamon spikes. His completion was still tan and flawless. His eyes remained that sinfully cynical blue. And that blue sight fixed upon Misty like an Ice Beam attack — instantly freezing her in place.

Gary Oak had obviously matured physically since childhood. But that cavalier, unforgiving attitude was the same. He narrowed his eyes into accusing silts, glaring at her as though she had just been caught stealing his starter Pokemon.

"I am so very sorry, Professor Oak, sorry to both of you," Misty quickly closed the distance between herself and the younger Oak. She gently placed her hand on his non-bandaged one.

Misty's face was burning from double-edged shame. She was sorry that she injured him AND sorry that she was inwardly cursing him for looking good while being injured! She could not will herself to make contact with those cold eyes again. They were so accusing, worse than a Judge's mallet upon her morale.

And so Misty suddenly found herself behaving very 'un-Misty-like' and hung her head, vision downcast to truly showcase her sorrow.

Misty caught a quick glance at Gary's hospital wristband which identified his name and birthdate. Gary was twenty-five, a year younger than her. She noticed something else, too. Just between the wristband and the long-sleeve of his hospital gown was the hint of a tattoo. This tattoo seemed to completely circle his wrist and travel an unknown distance up the length of his arm. Gary's forearm looked . . . strong. Apparently when he'd retired as Ash's rival he'd picked up weight lifting.

"It's just fine, Misty," said the senior Oak, beaming like an Electrode. She couldn't believe how happy he seemed considering the circumstances of their reunion.

Meanwhile Gary shifted uncomfortably, yanking his hand from hers as though her skin were releasing Poison Power. "Yeah, easy for my gramps to say, he's not the one in a cast."

"I am truly so sorry." Misty repeated, daring to glance up at him. "Thank you for not pressing charges."

Gary scoffed: "Thank my gramps. If it were up to me you'd be in jail."

Misty's stomach lurched, she could not have possibly felt any worse. Did Gary have to be so mean?

Take the highroad, Misty, she lectured herself. You did break his foot. Yes, he's an angry asshole, but just be polite and get outta here criminal record free.

She forced an abundance of gratitude into her expression, and looked over at the senior Oak. "Well, just the same, thank you, both of you. If there is anything I can do—"

And the senior Oak cut her off: "Ah! Splendid! Since you offered, there is something!"

"THERE IS?!" Gary and Misty yelped in perfect unison as though their reaction had been rehearsed. Gary lanced her with that Ice Beam stare again, insulted that they could possibly share anything.

"Why, yes!" The senior Oak replied. "The hospital is discharging Gary and he can't be left alone. I mean, what if he falls? Heavens! He could get hurt even worse. I'm leaving for The Safari Zone this evening and the home care nurse isn't available until tomorrow. How considerate of you to stay at home with Gary and care for him until the nurse arrives!"

"DO WHAT?!" Gary and Misty shouted together . . . again.

"Wonderful! Then it's settled. I'll go grab Gary's discharge papers and you can drive him home. Gary promises to be an ideal patient. My grandson is such an easy going guy, much like myself. You'll just have to feed him, give him his medication, maybe bathe him and help him to the potty room, easy-peasy!"

Bathe him?! Potty room?!

"But, Professor Oak, I'm not a nurse!" The protesting words flew from her lips before she could catch them.

"Yeah," Gary was equally alarmed, "She's not qualified to care for me! This girl is dangerous! Gramps, you would leave me alone with my assailant? I'm lucky she didn't break my entire leg!"

"It was an accident, Oak! I have apologized over and over again! But if you don't stop insulting me, I might break your leg for real!"

Oops. Temper.

Misty slapped her hands over her mouth so hard she was certain she'd have bruised lips.

"Gramps! She just threatened me!"

"Ho-ha, Misty, you are a pistol! Ho-ha! She's just kidding, Gary. A cute nurse with a sense of humor. You lucky boy! Almost makes me want a broken foot too!"

Gary huffed loudly, shaking his unruly main of spikes. "Unbelievable," he hissed like Seviper, his Ice Beam stare attempting to slice right through her.

Only this time Misty glared back at him with a visual Flamethrower of her own! During her childhood had she ever thrown such a brutally singeing look at Ash or Brock, the boys would have burst into tears on the spot. But Gary Oak was unflinching. Ice and flame blazed bitterly, unrelenting, until the senior Oak clapped his hands, commanding their attention.

"If I were a gambling man, I'd wager that you kids are gunna get along swimmingly!"

"If you were a gambling man, gramps, then you'd be living in a cardboard box."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gary Oak was not only an accomplished Pokemon researcher, but he was also an accomplished backseat driver. Less than a minute into their commute and Misty wished that she had broken his jaw instead of his foot.

"The speed limit IS 75. Not drive like you're 75. C'mon, Waterflower. There are Muks on the road passing us. I wanna get home before my pain-killers wear off."

Misty forced her lips together. The effort to choke down what she wanted to say was worse than swallowing vomit. I can handle him. I can keep my cool. He did not sue you, he did not have you arrested, remember that. You have to play nice.

"Professor Oak," Misty spoke his name with (nearly unbearable) forced sweetness. "I've never had an injured person as my passenger before. I'm more comfortable taking my time."

"And while grandma is takin' the scenic route, I'm scrunched between boxes of Net Balls! What, are you catching the entire ocean? Who needs a zillion Net Balls, anyway?"

Misty gagged as another rancid insult nearly tore free from her lips. Being forced to chug down her pride for the entire night was going to take all of the self-control that she possessed.

She studied 'Grumpy Gary' in the rearview mirror. To be fair, he was pretty squashed between all of the boxes. Even a non-broken-footed person would have been uncomfortable, so his complaints weren't entirely unjustified. It was just that his complaints out-numbered the amount of Net Balls surrounding him!

"I like to stock up," Misty explained. "I don't travel here to Kalos very often."

"Stocking up is buying a box or two. You are a Trubbish – a HOARDER." Gary ceased insulting her to point out the window. "Turn left. My apartment is on Vernal Avenue. #58. Across from the Stone Emporium. You CAN parallel park, right?"

"Yes, I can parallel park." Even through gritted teeth, Misty still remained calm.

She spied a perfect spot - directly in front of his door. Thank the heavens, finally break that wasn't Gary's bones.

"Be careful, there are pedestrians walking by."

"I SEE them. I'll have you know, Oak, I've been driving for ten years and you are my first accident."

"First?" Gary scoffed loudly. "Doubtful. But I'm certainly not your last. After driving with you, I can't believe you even passed your road test."

C'mon, Waterflower, Misty coached herself. Just ignore him. You can do this. Just feed him and put him to bed. The house nurse will be here by tomorrow morning. Misty glanced at her watch, it was nearly 6PM. With any luck Gary's pain meds would knock him out and he'd sleep clear until her replacement arrived. Misty forced herself to smile and rotated to face the young professor in her backseat. "Apartment key, please?"

Well, this was going to be an especially annoying sight: Gary trying to find his apartment key. He was going to struggle and Misty was going to let him do it! She would not offer to assist him and she knew his prideful ass would never ask for aid. Back at the hospital Gary could not put his pants back on. The jeans he was wearing (post-accident) would not fit over his casted foot. Therefore he was sent home IN his hospital gown. He had been too stubborn to let the nurse cut his jeans into shorts, and so he was wheelchair'd out just as he was: his frontside was totally covered. But as most hospital gowns go, the back was only laced together in three places, leaving him nearly barebacked. His Blubabsuar underwear was even showing! The gown was only knee length, showcasing his naked legs. And to complete the look, he wore one sneaker on his left foot. His right sneaker, jeans, shirt and personal effects were clutched in a plastic bag. He now had to locate his pants within the plastic bag (2 minutes), then fish around in his pocket (1 minute), until (fast forward five more tedious minutes) he finally withdrew his apartment key.

Misty snagged the key from his hands, sprinted up his walkway, unlocked the door and propped it open so as to ease their impending combined entry. She was instantly thankfully that this was a ground floor apartment. Gary was not given a 'take home' cane or crutch by the hospital staff. The nurse coming tomorrow was going to bring one and give him lessons. Therefore he was going to have to lean on her to get around until then.

Misty returned to the car and rearranged her boxes so that Gary could exit without spilling her Net Balls all over the sidewalk. Then she extended a helping hand toward him.

He eyed her hand as though she were hiding hypodermic needles beneath manicured nails. "What do you weigh, Waterflower? 115 pounds? There's no way you're strong enough to support me. Where's my crutch?"

"You didn't get a crutch. It's coming tomorrow with the home nurse. So, just c'mon, Oak."

Gary made a face, he was either surprised or relived that she'd dropped the polite 'professor' title. "For the record, I'm stating that this is a bad idea."

"No one asked you." Misty seethed through her best fake-beauty-queen-smile.

Inhaling deeply, Misty wrapped her hands around his right arm and tried to hoist him upward. Gary was lean, but surprisingly muscular for a Pokemon Professor and he had to have been nearly twice her weight. Her small hands could not fully encompass his bicep and he was just too heavy.

"Crutch." Gary insisted.

"No, you don't have one." Misty insisted back. "Stop being dead-weight and help me out, will ya?" This time she bent and circled her arms around his torso. The hospital gown was no thicker than a cheap bed-sheet, Misty's right hand supported Gary's lower back and her left was on his stomach. In this position Misty's face was pressed against his chest. She refused to acknowledge how good he smelled for a guy who had spent hours in the hospital. And she most certainly refused to noticed how well-muscled his abdomen was.

With one mighty pull — much to both of their surprise —Misty successfully hoisted Gary out of the car and onto his unbroken left foot. He quickly grabbed the car door and balanced himself, supporting his weight. Misty was waiting for him to crack her with a rude remark, but none came. The fear of falling actually muted him.

Still supporting his mid-section, Misty began the journey up his walkway. It was only 3 meters from the curbside to the front door, but at the moment the 3 meters felt like a marathon. She had underestimated the physical effort required to move a one-legged man— where was a friendly neighborhood Machamp when she needed one?! Sweat now glistened on her forehead; her arms and back were aching as he hopped along beside her, using her as his stand-in crutch.

It took several minutes to walk to the distance, but they did it. And with all the semblance of an intoxicated, disfigured Doduo to boot!

Bless the architect, because Gary's living room was directly inside. Misty and Gary hobbled toward the couch where he surrendered into the familiar cushions. Together they propped his casted foot upon a pillow so it could rest on his coffee table.

Misty darted outside to grab her own suitcase, Gary's belongings and lock up the car. Thankfully she always packed an overnight bag when she traveled to Kalos. One never knew if the boating scheduling could be delayed due to weather. She had been stranded here more than once thanks to Mother Nature.

Misty set their bags on the floor within Gary's reach. It had been at least ten minuets since he had last annoyed her, she wondered if he was feeling alright?

"Juice. Snacks. Blanket. Pillow. Feed Arbok. Go." Gary listed his demands, pointing at her as though she were his lowly grunt.

Misty wanted to knock him in that pretty face with a mallet.

"Okay, okay," she opted to mutter over mallet. Misty hadn't even had a chance to get her bearings and he was already ordering her around! She took a moment to survey her posh new surroundings. This apartment was . . . nice. Really, really nice. White cathedral ceilings, skylights, chandelier, designer furnishings and loads of exotic potted plants covered an entire wall. It was an open floor plan, the living room and kitchen area were one huge white room. Off to the side were two other doors, likely leading to the bedroom and bathroom.

The kitchen had Red Apricorn-wood cabinets, granite countertops and matching stainless steel appliances. Everything was immaculate and organized, not a speck of clutter to be seen. Only a neatly labeled jar of Poke'food and a tiny brass bell resided on his kitchen counter. Even the floors looked freshly mopped. This was not at all the 'bachelor pad' Misty was expecting.

It only took her a few moments to locate a serving tray. She poured a large glass of juice and emptied a box of snack crackers into a bowl.

"This place is beautiful," she mused, admiring a spectacular Blastoise painting on the wall. Misty placed the serving tray on the couches end-table, within easy reach of her patient.

"Blanket. Pillow. Feed Arbok. Go." Gary recited his demands, offering no such 'thank you' for the snacks or her compliment of his home.

Misty flashed him her middle-finger, knowing that he couldn't see it from the couch.

Arbok? I don't see an Arbok anywhere. Curious, she opened one of the other two doors. The first led to a large modern bathroom – complete with walk-in shower and swanky jacuzzi. Behind the second was his bedroom. Gary had an enormous SlowKing-sized mattress. His bed was already made to perfection —he had an opulent silver bed set complete with a plush comforter, neatly folded throw blanket and a mountain of different-sized pillows. A neatly organized computer desk was nestled in the corner. Misty snagged a random pillow and his throw blanket.

"Here ya go," she handed the bedding items to Gary.

"Feed Arbok."

"I don't see an Arbok anywhere."

"Ring his bell." Gary gestured toward the kitchen counter where the brass bell and Poke'food jar sat side-by-side.

And so Misty returned to the kitchen, picked up the bell and rang it. Almost immediately an above-average sized Arbok emerged from somewhere within Gary's jungle of potted plants. Arbok blinked his groggy eyes and surveyed the scene. He seemed to easily deduce that Gary was injured, not seriously, and that SHE was now the controller of his dinner. The snake hissed eagerly as he approached Misty and she could actually hear his stomach grumbling from hunger. Arbok cocked his head, he was studying her now. Misty studied him back. Arbok stretched upward so that he was eye-level with her. His forked tongue jutted forth, tasting the air around her, engaging with her scent. There was a glimmer of recognition in his eye . . . did this Arbok know her?

Seeming to rank food above scrutinizing her, the snake gestured to an empty bowl beneath a bar stool.

This Pokemon was a striking specimen of Arbok. His scales reminded Misty of amethyst gem stones, sparkling beautifully under the kitchen lights. Misty had never claimed to be an admirer of snake Pokemon, but she knew a superior version of the species when she saw one. And she was now certain that she HAD seen this exact lavender beast before. But where?

Puzzled, Misty frowned and tossed a few handfuls of the Poke'food into his bowl. "Enjoy." she said, leaving Arbok to munch away in privacy.

"Your Arbok is magnificent," Misty sincerely meant her proclamation, "is he a research subject?"

Gary just looked at her, expressionless, ignoring her positive comment on his Pokemon. Instead he pointed to the pillow and blanket she had previously laid upon his lap. "Tuck me in."

"Don't you want to change out of that hospital gown first?"

"I don't want to get up again yet. Tuck me in."

Misty exhaled sharply, suffocating the urge to suffocate him with his own pillow!

With painstaking movements she fluffed the pillow and set it behind his head and then wrapped the throw blanket across his body — making sure he was covered from shin to shoulder. Next she lifted his bandaged right hand, followed by his non-bandaged left one and pulled them out from under the blanket so that he could easily reach his snacks and drink.

As Misty started to release his hand from hers she realized that she was . . . stuck. Gary was . . . holding . . . her . . . hand? He stared intently, like her hand were a fossilized limb from one of his research subjects. Misty tugged at her hand but he would not let go.

"You have really small hands, Waterflower." Gary announced his scientific conclusion.

Misty stopped trying to free her hand as she considered his observation. What? Are my hands freakishly small?

She followed his scrutinizing gaze: there was her hand – small, delicate, pale-ish — trapped within his quite large, strong, tan-ish one. Gary's fingers were nearly twice the size of her own, and undeniably smooth. He clearly wasn't too masculine to moisturize. Since he was studying her, Misty granted her own sight an exploratory stroll, skimming from his hand and up his forearm . . .

. . . tan . . .

. . . toned . . .

. . . tattooed . . .

When the hell did Gary Oak get a sexy man arm?!

Wasn't he just some scrawny little kid? No, Ash was the scrawny little kid. Gary had always been lean and athletic, even as a boy. But he certainly was never muscled like this. Was he racing Rapidash and wrestling Primeapes in his spare time?!

She tried to steal a look at his tattoo, his hospital gown sleeve was rolled up just above the wrist. Misty deciphered what resembled paws and flames. Part of an Arcanine, maybe? She was oh-so very curious if this tattoo was a full sleeve work-of-art or a small forearm decoration?

Misty blinked upward, Gary was focused on her; his gaze like blue searchlights upon her face. Gary had been observing her observing him.

Misty retracted her hand, feeling unexplainably flustered and then irritated that she felt flustered! Was she irritated with herself or with him?

"My hands are not small. Yours are just big and brutish like Snolax paws."

Gary snickered, her words apparently inspired him to continue acting like himself. "You've got weenie little Gothita fingers. Like a little kid."

"Well, these Gothita fingers were strong enough to get your ass out of that car and onto this couch. Those fine muscles of yours didn't do you any good, did they?"

Gary straightened up now, amusement lighting his eyes. "My fine muscles?"

Misty could practically see his ego bloat. He would never be able to leave his apartment now, his head would never fit through the door. Misty had meant to insult him, not compliment him.

"You have okay muscles. Average at best." Misty shrugged nonchalantly, trying to cover her slip-up. But it was too late. Gary was beaming, showcasing his way-too-perfect white teeth. "Ugh, Oak, why do you even have muscles anyway? Aren't Pokémon professors all scrawny and nerdy?"

"How stereotypical of you."

"Do you lift weights?" Now she wanted to know.

"I box."

"Like, punching people boxing?"

"Yes," Gary laughed, "Five years ago I did a research project on a unique Hitmonchan. Boxing against humans was his favorite training regimen. He would box at every available opportunity. As a result his strength was record-breaking for his species. I wanted to learn more about the specifics of his training, so I took it up. Hands-on learning, I guess. Been at it ever since. I don't compete in tournaments or anything—it's strictly for exercise, stress relief, that kind of thing. I spend as much time hitting bags and sparring partners as I do the nerdy books."

"Oh." Misty tried not to look impressed. Boxing sounded . . . brutish, a dangerous waste of time and certainly NOT sexy. Well, okay, maybe just a little-bit-OR-a-lot sexy? "Well, I don't think you're as tough as you think you are, Oak. Even me, with my small-little-kid-hands, could out box you. I'm quick. When we were kids, I use to fight with Ash all the time and he could never even land a slap on me. But I left him black and blue on a weekly basis."

"As much as I can appreciate your desire to beat up Ash, it's hardly worth bragging about. That's like a Weedle trading blows with a Caterpie. Ridiculous. I could best you with one hand tied behind my back and a broken foot."

"I'm like a Machamp!" Misty put up her 'dukes' (or whatever boxers called their fighting fists) and leaned over him. "Try to get in a shot, Oak. I dare ya!"

Gary scoffed as though she'd challenged him to catch a Weedle with a Masterball. "Absurd. As tempting as it is, I'm not going to box you. But!" he flashed that perfectly smug grin again. "Perhaps we can settle this another way? Arm-wrestling? Less chance of you getting hurt."

"You're on."

Gary flexed his right-hand and began un-wrapping the bandage dressing. Apparently he intended to compete with his injured hand.

"For the record, I'm stating that this is a bad idea." Misty warned, blatantly copying his words from earlier at the car.

"No one asked you," he volleyed back. "It's fine, Waterflower, barely a scratch," he held up his bare hand as proof. He was not downplaying, his right palm did only appear to be slightly bruised with some minor scraping across the knuckle.

It was time to set the arena stage! Misty stood up to her full height, kicking off her shoes for dramatic effect. Next she set Gary's snack tray on the floor, clearing the table top for their impending duel. So what if Misty had never actually arm-wrestled before, she had seen wild fighting-type Pokemon do it plenty of times. It didn't look overly complicated. The winner pushed the losers hand into the table. Easy.

Misty nestled her elbow a top the table and opened up her hand, inviting his.

Gary licked his lips, nodding confidently. The blueness of his eyes contrasted with the thick dark lashes framing them. Misty could not squelch the inner admission that he was . . . irritatingly attractive right now. The key part being 'irritatingly', of course.

Cocking a cocky eyebrow, Gary placed his large, strong, smooth, tan-ish hand in hers.

Had an invisible Charmander just sighed upon her finger tips? Misty suppressed a shudder as a wave of not-so-unpleasant heat smoldered trough her veins, igniting her blood from her hand, up her arm, across her chest, to her cheeks and to other areas (she was grateful were!) fully hidden from Gary's view.

"On three," he commanded. Gary was either choosing to ignore the obvious blush staining her skin OR he was so immersed within premature self-congratulations that he did not notice. Probably the latter.

Misty nodded, indicating that she was ready to duel.

"One, tw-"

Misty pinned his hand.

"You cheated." Gary stated, rolling his eyes. "Re-match." He squeezed her fingers in his hand and Misty's stomach muscles involuntarily squeezed in response. She upgraded the heat in her bloodstream to Charmeleon-level.

Misty had to laugh at Gary's unbridled annoyance at her cheating. Realistically she knew that she was 'all talk'. She knew that Gary would best her in a fair arm-wrestling match on sheer strength alone. If she wanted to win, then she had to be creative. "Okay, Oak, on three?"

Gary counted again: "One, two, three-OHHH-OUCH!"

With her free hand, Misty jabbed him in the armpit. Gary jumped and she won again. Misty sang her prideful laughter loudly. "HAAAA! Haaaahaa! Ticklish, eh, Oak?"

Gary rubbed his violated armpit protectively. "You're a scrappy little thing, I'll give you that. But you're still cheating, Waterflower. My foot is in a cast, my wrestling hand is bruised. Your opponent is physically handicapped and you still play it dirty. Shameful."

"Fine," Misty stuck out her tongue, "one more round?"

Gary eyed her with rightful suspicion. "Okay, but you can't move your other hand and you must wait until the THREE." And so he began his count for a final time: "One, two, three!"

This time Misty was determined to actually try . . . but, within a nano-second his more powerful hand was pressing hers down, down, down . . . ! If Gary bested her she would never - NEVER- hear the end of it. So, Misty defaulted to what her own sisters would do in a time like this. She pulled out a classic tactic from the Waterflower bag-o-tricks.

"Ohh, Oak, your hand is so-ohhh big and strong," she gasped, perfectly imitating the sultry, breathy coo her sister Violet utilized to manipulate men.

It worked like a charm. Gary was an annoying man, but he was still a man. He faltered, unsure of what he had just heard. He held Misty's hand an inch off the tabletop and stared at her as though she'd just transformed into a Jynx!

Misty had to seal the deal NOW NOW NOW, while he was still bewildered! Channeling her 'inner Violet', Misty released a dreamy, fan-girly sigh and boldly stroked his hand with her thumb. She circled his skin as suggestively as one possibly could whilst in the arm-wrestling position. She boldly met his stare, filling her gaze with lust, batting her lashes and asked: "Is it true that boys with big hands have a big-"

"ARBOK!" the snake Pokemon popped his head up from the behind the couch like a jack-in-the-box! Arbok seemed instantly delighted to witness whatever human game they were playing.

Gary and Misty both startled! And with Gary's focus now slack, Misty saw opportunity knocking and she answered! She pinned Gary's hand to the table with an overabundance of triumphant force!

Gary yanked his hand away from hers. "Wow," realization hitting him like a charging Rhydon. "Dirty womanly trick. I can definitely say none of my sparing buddies have pulled that one on me."

Misty stood up and took a bow. "And for my prize," she snatched the television remote control from the coffee table. "I get to choose our evening entertainment!"

"Chaaaarbokaaaah!" Arbok was overjoyed. He slithered onto the back rim of the couch, eagerly staring at the television screen.

Misty paused in her triumph as she examined Arbok again. Her memory was nagging the hell out of her. She knew this Pokemon . . . she had definitely seen him before. But who did she know that had such an above-averaged sized snake? He didn't belong to Team Rocket. And she did not remember Gary ever battling Ash with an Ekans or an Arbok during their youth . . .

Oh my God!

The truth punctured her memory like the Pokemon's famous Poison Sting to her brain.

Chaz.

This Arbok had once belonged to her ex-boyfriend.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Arbok snuggled into Gary's chest, pressing his forehead against his heart as though the endgame were to melt together. Flesh fingers stroked scales. Reptilian eyes lulled shut as human ones shone with unveiled affection.

As Gary turned his attention on Misty the raw devotion was devoured by raw disturbance. "Well, you gunna pick a movie or what, Waterflower?"

"Charrrrrbok!" hissed Gary's backup.

Misty could have minded her own business and picked a movie.

But then she wouldn't be Misty.

"Where did you find Arbok? I really wanna know. I- I think I've seen him before."

Gary and Arbok both stiffened. The human was instantly sobered from his mocking mood as the snake cocked his head at her. Misty knew that Arbok returned her recognition. She wished that he was capable of saying more than just his own name.

Taking the liberty of a deep, thoughtful breath Gary organized his words. His eyes never leaving those of his Pokemon. "Last year I started volunteering at the local Pokemon Center. I was able to gain hands-on first aid experience from Nurse Joy and help a lot of injured Pokemon in the process. Win-win. One night a good samaritan came in with Arbok. She'd found him laying by the road. Arbok was badly injured physically, but worse, his spirit was crushed."

". . . arrrrbok." came a dejected squeak, confirming the sad story.

"Arbok's trainer had abandoned him. Poor Arbok was clinically depressed, he wouldn't even eat. The trainer who had raised him, who he'd loved, just gave up on him." Gary made eye contact with her now, and for the first time, all pomposity was vanquished. He had shed his insufferable skin, but Misty could not quite pinpoint what emotion he exposed.

Sighing, Gary blinked, severing their fleeting moment of . . . of what?

"Long story short, I ended up adopting him."

Gary adopted one of Chaz's 'throw away' Pokemon.

Newfound admiration for Gary Oak almost knocked Misty's mind off its proverbial 'mind feet'. The unbearably obnoxious Gary Oak! The irritating-as-all-hell Gary Oak! The I'd-rather-get-a-piggy-back-ride-on-an-Electrobuzz-across-the-ocean-than-spend-any-more-time-with Gary-Oak, he had . . .

. . . a big heart?

A warm, selfless heart possibly bigger than his own ego?

Ugly shame boiled within Misty now. How could she have been friendly with — let alone romantic with — Chaz? The despicable scumbag Chaz! The breaker-of-Arbok's-heart Chaz! The douchebag-who-had-abandoned-countless-other-Pokemon-on-his-quest-for-fame-and-she'd-rather-brush-her-teeth-with-the-slop-from-a-Muk's-ass—than-ever-see-him-again Chaz!

Yes, Misty had ended their relationship specifically because Chaz's behavior was repulsive to her. But even this fact could not quell the waves of humiliation that beat against her morale.

Misty seized ahold of her wits like a life-raft, she did not want Gary to see the storm of inner turmoil raging within her. She had to speak: "How very good of you, Oak." Misty meant it, but immediately berated herself. The compliment was pitifully underwhelming for how truly impressed she was. She verbally paddled on, so wanting Gary to comprehend how awed she was by his kindness toward the snake. "Arbok looks so happy and healthy! Are you training him? His size is amazing and he looks strong! I think he'd be a shoo-in at any beauty pageant. He could do—-"

The Return of Rude Gary! He did not even let her finish the sentence: "Arbok doesn't have to DO anything for me. He doesn't have to battle other Pokemon. He doesn't have to win awards in beauty pageants. He doesn't even have to scare off rodents in the backyard. Arbok is my roommate, my friend." Arbok nuzzled into Gary's chest, cooing like a freshly-hatched Ekans. "Isn't that right, buddy? You n' me. Just a pair of cool bachelors, hanging out and livin' the good life."

"Chaaarr-Charrrbok," Arbok nodded enthusiastically, wrapping himself around Gary's neck and torso like some crazy-long holiday scarf.

Misty flinched. She was wholly unprepared for Gary's defensiveness. And, she was now emotionally overpowered (for the second time!) by how selfless he truly was. Professor Gary Oak 'got it'. His focus was not what Pokemon 'could do for him', rather, 'what he could do for them'.

Gary understood and respected Pokemon.

Misty thought that, maybe, she understood and respected Gary.

"So then?" Gary raised an accusing eyebrow to match his tone. "You said that you recognized Arbok?"

Misty and Arbok both nodded.

For the first time, in a very long time, Misty was tempted to lie. Gary Oak's opinion of her suddenly meant . . . something. But Misty Waterflower was not a liar.

"I-I . . ."

"Out with it, Waterflower. Since when are you at a loss for words?"

Misty met his eyes and spoke the truth: "Arbok's former trainer is my ex-boyfriend. And I broke up with him because he was abandoning his Pokemon. I hated him for it. I'm sorry that I ever got involved with him, even more sorry than I am for hitting you with my car." She turned to Arbok now. "Even more so, I am sorry for all that you endured, Arbok. You are a wonderful Pokemon and he never deserved you. I'm really happy that you and Gary found eacother."

Arbok bowed his head graciously. He appreciated Misty's genuine words.

She looked to Gary now and there it was again . . .

. . . that . . . something in his eyes. That vulnerable glint of . . .

It was gone. Replaced by a freezing stormageddon. Misty averted her stare before her retinas caught frostbite.

"Don't tell me his name." Gary spit the words like poison upon his tongue. His jaw clenching, cheeks reddening like a Pokemon preparing a RAGE attack. "Because if I can find the bastard, I will hurt him."

Misty only nodded, she knew Gary's threat was as real as his love for that Arbok.

Did Chaz deserve to be at the brunt of Gary's honed boxing fists? Probably. But Misty was not a fan of violence and she would not provide Gary with any ammo to ruin his life with.

"Arbok remembered me right away," Misty puzzled aloud, "but he didn't seem nervous or upset with me at all for my . . . association."

"Of course not. Arbok isn't a mean or spiteful Pokemon, he doesn't hold grudges."

"So he's nothing like his current trainer, then."

"Heh. Good one, Waterflower." Gary raised an eyebrow with mediocre approval, but Misty could tell he was struggling to stifle the anger he desperately wanted to release upon her ex.

Tension suffocated any further communication. How could Misty squelch this vocally paralyzing fog? How could she —non-awkwardly— change the subject?

Misty looked at her hand, she was holding the answer. The television remote control had been there this entire time.

Misty appointed herself with scrolling through the various entertainment streaming apps that Gary was subscribed too, which was apparently all of them. She selected a classic family "feel good" film about a heroine who embarks on an epic Pokemon adventure and finds love in the most unexpected place. Arbok bobbed his head enthusiastically, clearly approving of her movie choice.

Gary was less-than-enthused. "Nope, nope, nope!" but at least he was distracted from Chaz. "You hit me with your car. Broke my foot. Cheated THREE times at an arm-wrestling match. Nope. No way you're being rewarded by subjecting Arbok and me to this girly drama crap-film!" Gary stretched, snatching the remote from her hand and stopping the movie just as it began.

Misty and Arbok groaned in protest.

"Here now!" Gary announced in a professorly tone. "I've been looking forward to watching this documentary series."

Misty read the documentary title out loud: "'Exploring the Natural Reproductive Habits of Slowpoke.' What? Noooo waaaaay!" she wailed as though he'd just tossed a real mating pair of Slowpokes into her lap!

"Sit down and zip it, will ya? Just give it a chance. This is award-winning scientific cinematography."

Misty sulkily surrendered into an easy chair. She bit her tongue and wished she were biting Gary's remote control-button-pusher-finger! Misty reasoned that — given the day Gary had, courtesy of her— the least she could do was give the documentary a chance.

Fifteen minutes later and Misty would rather have had an army of Slowpokes poking her eyes out, than be subjected to one second more of this 'award-winning scientific cinematography'! She had witnessed so many Slowpokes groaning "poke-poke-poke" as they, well, "poke-poke-poked" each other that she would never be able to look at the species again without wanting to whack them in their groins with a mallet! To top it off, the narrator delivered his lines so monotone-ish and creepy: "once sexually aroused, the dominant female Slowpoke walks with her tail held high, thus communicating to the males when she is receptive of penetration. As the mating ritual begins . . ."

"I can't watch this! PLEASE, Oak! It's too gross!" Misty buried her face in her hands. "Oak! I can't unsee this!"

Gary practically growled, pausing his documentary to glare at her. "What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with it?! How hard did I hit you?! Are you blind? It's gross!"

"What's so gross about mating rituals? This is fascinating. Weren't you paying attention? The Slowpoke is the ONLY species on the entire planet that mates for both reproduction and recreation. Translation: they bang for pleasure, Waterflower, for pure entertainment, the only species . . ." he smiled coyly, " . . .humans aside, that is."

The invisible Charmander and Charmeleon combined could never generate the inferno which now ignited Misty blood like sinful molten lava! There was most certainly an invisible Mega Charizard blowing flames upon her face! There was no other logical explanation for why Misty's cheeks now matched the hue of her hair. "Well . . . not . . . all humans DO that for entertainment."

Here came the classic 'Obnoxious Oak' smile. "Speak for yourself, Waterflower. Do you think Boxing is my only recreational activity? I guess I should really thank you for breaking my foot. I'm gunna get a lot of 'sympathy sex' from the ladies when they get a look at this cast."

Invisible Mega Charizard? Um, no. He was hurled aside by Invisible Articuno's Icy Wind! Now did an uncomfortable emotion chisel like an icicle at Misty's mind. This emotion was familiar, like recalling the sensation of spider webs on your face. Misty could not quite place what it was or when she had felt it before?

But then realization took pity on her. Realization slapped her HARD! And this realization was that: Misty would rather spend the rest of the night watching Slowpokes mate than imagine Gary Oak in the arms of random bimbos.

"Well, maybe you should call one of your lady friends to come over and play Nurse Joy for you, then?" Misty intended for her tone to be casual, but it was sarcastic as hell.

Somehow Gary was oblivious to her distain. Perhaps he was too busy cramming handfuls of snack crackers into his mouth? "You did the crime, crunch-crunch-crunch, you do the time." Misty watched as he raised the remote, preparing to re-start the Slowpoke documentary.

No, no…. no!

She could not stand for it!

"Gimme that remote!" Misty leapt from her chair and took a swipe for the precious remote. Unprepared for her greedy assault, Gary attempted to shield his treasure. The entire bowl of snack crackers went flying into the air like confetti! Arbok was thrilled, slithering all over the floor to devour the casualties of their remote control war.

With his broken foot elevated awkwardly on a pillow, it was nearly impossible for Gary to properly protect his remote from Misty's covetous clutches. He hugged it close to his chest, guarding the gadget as though it were a Legendary Poke'egg!

Using both hands Misty tried to pry his big man fingers apart. If she could just loosen his grasp she might be able to snag the remote. Once in her possession their evening entertainment would be up to her and her alone! What was Gary going to do: chase her around the house to get it back? HAAAAA!

"Stop being such a BRAT!" Gary snarled, eyes flaring, fingers death-locked. Okay, so he was genuinely aggravated. But adrenaline and desperation were a powerful concoction in Misty's veins! She yanked as hard as she could on his thumbs! She could see them loosening! She almost . . .

"Ahh!" Misty toppled atop Gary. The bastard had used his good foot to swipe her legs out from under her. In the process gravity took them backward; Gary grabbed her hips swinging them both lengthwise so that he was fully reclined, head to foot across the couch. He had to swiftly raise his casted foot from the coffee table to the couch to keep it from harms-way! Misty was clumsily straddling his lap and straining for balance.

Gary grinned triumphantly, but did not waste time gloating. His boxer's-hands reflexively sprang into action before Misty could launch a defense. Gary raised the throw blanket and ensnared her completely — cocooning her arms like a damned straight-jacket! He fixed the edges of the blanket securely, not granting her a centimeter of an escape route.

Misty was furious! Properly fuming . . . right? Then why the heck was she laughing!? She writhed and wriggled against Gary with all her might, as far as she was concerned his 'sympathy card' was long out of play.

Misty stilled momentarily, catching her breath and to anticipate what his next move may be. She was cognizant that his casted foot was within kicking distance, and she had to be careful that she did not accidentally bump against it. Casted foot aside, all bets were off.

Throughout her thrashing she had somehow fallen between Gary's legs and the remote control was no where to be seen. Gary had dropped it as his hands were preoccupied with keeping hers secure beneath the blanket.

Like her, Gary was capable of being pissed off and wildly entertained at the same time. The young man was whole-heartedly laughing (a light, evilly sexy laugh), as those eyes blazed with blue victory.

"Whatcha gunna do now, Waterflower?"came a breathy taunt from below. Cinnamon-spikes of hair splayed recklessly in every direction — as though he'd vigorously rubbed a balloon across his head — and yet he still looked damn good. The bastard.

"I don't think so, Oak!" Misty rolled like a Croconaw, churning wildly she managed to wiggle one of her arms free and scored a nearby pillow. Not caring about his swollen lip, she whacked him directly in the face!

SUCCESS!

Gary loosened his grip and she freed her second arm. Years of campfire pillow fights with Brock and Ash had prepared her well for this moment. Misty turned the tables — or rather the blanket — on Gary. She deftly imprisoned his arms under the blanket with one hand, and with the other she smacked the pillow over his face again and held it there, not to smother him, but to make her point that SHE was clearly the winner of BATTLE REMOTE! With Gary momentarily immobilized, Misty began frantically scanning for the remote control.

"MsstyCrrrffflll!" came his garbled pillow-smushed words.

"AH-HA!" Misty cheered. She could feel the stiffness of the remote control somewhere in the blanket, directly between them. It was right there, the unmistakable hardness of the gadget! Misty could feel it — victory — pressing firmly against her stomach! She just had to figure out a way to:

1) take her hand off the pillow on his face quickly enough to . . .

2) grab the remote and . . .

3) roll off the couch and out of his reach.

"Crrrrrrrfullll! . . .MmmmgawdddC'mon, shhhtt." Gary sounded a tad more alarmed, and maybe like he moaned? Well, he didn't sound like he was in pain, so Misty ignored him. She would not be distracted with triumph so close at hand! Misty wiggled against the remote, she pressed down on it with her stomach, trying to nudge it to the side—gosh, it was bigger than she remembered and it seemed to be really stuck between his legs—OMIGOSH! That's not a remote! That's his—!

"ARBOK!" the snake Pokemon reappeared, chewing a cracker. Arbok was assessing this bizarre scene, concerned that Misty was over-roughhousing his injured roommate.

Misty took this as her OUT and leapt off of Gary! She left the pillow over his face and the remote—or whatever-that-was— behind! Misty ran for-the-life-of-her-dignity into the kitchen exclaiming: "Oh boy, do I need a drink of water!"

"Get me one too!" he called after her, panting.

"Say PLEASE!"

"I don't waste manners on criminals."

Misty stuck both middle fingers up at him, once again knowing that he couldn't see her obscene retort. It still felt satisfying!

Misty inhaled and took a long drink of water; allowing the cool fluid to rush through her system, washing away the flush from her cheeks. The water did nothing to calm her heartbeat. Her ribs ached as her primal organ thudded against them. Misty wanted to knock her head against the wall in rhythm.

She had not expected their wrestling match to become so . . . heated? There was no way that that big hard thing she felt was actually his . . . no. No way. Gary would not have allowed that part of him to harden, right? Couldn't guys control that?! Command IT like a Metapod to, like, Harden on cue?! After all, Gary could hardly stand to be around her. She broke his foot and dated the guy who caused harm to his Pokemon. So IT must have been the remote after all and her imagination flattered herself far too much. The only thing hard on Gary Oak's body was his dense hard head . . . on his shoulders, of course! Oh, and that casted foot was pretty hard. Whoopsie. Ah, and those long hard fingers; and maybe those hard muscles all over his body—okay! So the guy had many hard qualities, but his last name WAS 'OAK' and Oak Trees were hard. He was just destined to be hard!

Well, that blundering inner monologue did nothing to explain away his unexplainable arousal. Fail, Waterflower, FAIL.

"Hey, Oak, I think it's time for you to start getting ready for bed," she suggested, bringing him the glass of water with a healthy side of 'Make Smalltalk'.

Gary was sitting up, his casted foot now on he ground. He eagerly accepted the drink. "For once I agree, Waterflower. It's gunna take me a while to get ready for bed anyway." He was acting totally normal, no awkwardness at all despite the fact that this entire day was a flashing neon sign of AWKWARD. So, surly what she felt between them was nothing after all, physically or otherwise.

Misty waited for the foolhardy relief to flood her, but none came.

"I need a shower." As though predicting her oncoming protest, Gary continued quickly: "I'm not asking you to sponge bathe me or anything. I just need you to help me into the bathroom, untie this hospital gown and put a plastic bag over my cast to protect it from the water. Then Arbok can help me with the rest. He'll come into the shower with me and I can lean on him so I don't fall. So don't go gettin' your hopes up or anything, you won't be seein' me naked."

"Like I'd want to see YOU naked! I'd rather watch the Slowpokes go at it!"

Gary grunted with amusement, but his entertainment was fleeting. A painful flinch jarred his features as he tried, and failed, to stand.

Misty bent down and wrapped her arms around his torso, aiming to help him stand up. This technique worked well to get him into the apartment, so hopefully it would get him an even shorter distance into the bathroom.

Even on one leg Gary was more than a foot taller than Misty, this made balancing a task. But her view made this a welcome task. Gary was focused forward at the bathroom door. From this angle Misty freely admired how strong and chiseled his jawline was, how a just the shadow of stubble was beginning to form. His adam's apple wavered as he breathed, his throat was muscled, masculine . . . it would make a glorious canvas for a few strategically placed hickeys. What better way to ward off the 'sympathy sex' ladies than with—STOP! This sexy beast is STILL Gary Obnoxious Oak!

Misty concentrated only on the painstakingly slow fifteen steps toward his bathroom. Once inside, Misty avoided any eye-contact as she propped Gary up against the wall where he held onto a towel rack for support. She snagged an empty plastic garbage bag from beneath the sink and carefully wrapped it around his cast, securing it so the bandage would not get wet. Next she made sure that his shower gel and a clean towel were within arms-reach when Arbok hoisted him in and out of the shower. She assumed that if he needed to get to the sink or the toilet that his Pokemon could manage him without her.

Misty felt Gary watching her as she set up his wash station. Why wasn't he bossing her around? Telling her how best to do it all?

"Turn around," Misty instructed, returning to him with the most 'nursely' professional air she could muster. "I need to untie the gown."

Gary obeyed, but failed to stifle a painful grimace as he rotated, revealing his back to her.

"I'll get your pain meds as soon as you're finished up in here, okay?"

He only nodded.

Misty was thankful that Gary was not facing her. She was failing to remain neutral as she spied his boxer-briefs through the opening in the gown flaps. She had an accidental peek at them earlier in the day at the hospital. But this was far more than a peek, this was a case-study. His underwear was pretty adorable. Little cartoon Bulbasaur were printed in a repeating pattern across the fabric. This was not exactly the underwear style which she had imagined for Professor Pompous, but then again, almost nothing about him had been what she expected.

The hospital gown was tied in three places down the length of Gary's back. He would have struggled with his big-thick-man-fingers to free these tiny knots himself. They were tied quite securely by the hospital nursing staff.

Misty began with the lowest knot, right above his backside. Years of physical fitness gifted him with an ass destined for an underwear website.

Assuring herself that the previous observation was totally harmless, Misty moved upward to the middle knot, square in the center of his back. Her fingers accidentally brushed the curve of his spine and she felt him shiver, just slightly, under her touch. Or had her own fingers trembled after coming in contact with him? She wasn't certain.

Finally Misty examined the final knot, it was nestled between his shoulder blades. She gently guided a few stray strands of his hair to the side. She tried to steady her breath, but it caught in her throat. Acknowledging what she felt was like swallowing sand. Gary's naked back was . . . glorious. Was it ridiculous to describe a human back as 'glorious'? Misty did not know the answer, she only knew that the specimen of masculinity standing before her was unlike any she had seen in person before. Gary's broad shoulders were sheathed by toned smooth skin, pulled taught over his firm muscles.

As Misty freed the final knot, Gary did his part and shook the gown from his arms. The fabric fell freely onto the bathroom floor. Why hadn't either of them bothered to catch it?

It was now of grave importance that Gary Oak NOT turn around.

Misty did not want to see — could not see — him facing her, nearly naked. Her pulse quickened as an agonizingly slow drip of adrenaline fueled her bloodstream.

"A-Arbok?" she called, vocal chords bafflingly brittle.

It was Arbok's turn to take care of Gary. Nurse Misty needed her break time. Now. Thankfully the snake Pokemon was quick to wiggle his way into the room.

"Thank you, I guess." Gary looked over his shoulder to where she stood behind him. "Pretty dammed backwards, though, thanking my assailant."

Perfect physique. Painful personality.

Misty's eyebrow twitched and Gary turned around and faced her.

He looked down at her, eyes like twin blue emergency flares, warning her, cautioning her . . . daring her? His expression was wholly possessed by arrogant bravado — challenging her to look at him - really look at him - bare-chested before her and to not react.

A lesser-woman would have jumped his bones.

It was time to stick a pin in Gary's inflated ego.

Misty blatantly eyed Gary up and down as though he were a commonplace runty Pidgey, unworthy of wasting a Pokeball to collect.

She remained unflinching, unimpressed and —by Moltres!— she should win a superior actress award for doing so!

Commonplace runty Pidgey my ass.

Dammit . . .

The young professor looked even better from the front.

This was a scientist, a researcher, he worked in a lab, in a field. He studied geeky-nerdy Pokemon things that most people would never even think about once in their lives. He looked the part of a model, but would have been bored out of his skull as one. Modeling would have been an easy road to riches. But, like Misty, Gary understood that anything free or easy-to-obtain held no victory. A true triumph was worth the hard work.

The universe had not gifted him with this spectacular, sexy body. Gary had earned it. Built himself strong over years of perseverance, sweat, pain and hard work. He had constructed himself a pair of broad shoulders which gave-way to pectorals like stone and a set of abdominal muscles that Misty could actually count. He had also made his body a canvass for art. His right arm displayed a full-sleeve mosaic of ink. True-color renditions of Pokemon Misty at once recognized as Gary's childhood favorites: Arcanine, Blastoise, Umbreon, Nidoking and Scizor swirled in heroic poses up the length of his arm from wrist to shoulder. This tattoo was a gorgeous tribute to the Pokemon who meant so very much to him. A way for Gary to honor their memories and carry them with him forever. The sentiment caused a hitch in her throat. She swallowed hard on emotion, washing away the imaginary sand that had stuck there before. That which had halted her ability to identify how this young professor made her feel.

The flares of bravado in his eyes had been upgraded to confrontational laser beams — pinpointing the brunt of their radiant power on her face alone. Focused on making her crack. He was determined to elicit a reaction from her. His lips parted, he wanted to say something, but no words came.

Misty considered the tiny scab on his chin and his slightly swollen lower lip. She had caused these marks with her car. She wished she had caused them with her mouth.

Droplets of sweat were welling along her lower back, behind her neck, between her thighs, on her palms, she was hot and calmly as the Oak Fever threatened her system. Misty ordered those sweat droplets to isolate where they were. He could not see her flinch, not for a moment. This silent game they were playing was one she HAD TO WIN.

Misty's resolve, her expression, remained an ironclad shield of indifference.

And Misty was so damn proud of herself as she shrugged and waltzed out of the bathroom.

"Just holler when you're done," she said casually, shutting the door behind her.

Misty walked to Gary's freezer and stuck her head inside.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Gary and Arbok were finishing up in the bathroom.

Misty and Misty were arguing in the living room.

In other words, she was berating herself.

You can NOT have a crush on Gary Oak! C'mon, Waterflower, reality check. No crushing on Oak. Zero crushage. Zilch. No means no! NO WAY!

Misty willingly sank into Gary's couch cushions, imaging that her 'shameful Oak craving' was a stone and the couch was a magical bottomless well. Now her feelings would plummet away into oblivion.

Fare-thee-well, Oak Crush! Good riddance!

She waved as those inconvenient feelings disappeared, freeing her mind from the Pretty Professor.

GONE! What a relief!

Actually, um, no.

Her imaginary self tossed a Pokeball into the well which (somehow) caught her crushy-feels and returned them.

So, WHY can't I have a crush on Oak?

Are you really asking yourself this, Waterflower?! That's the dumbest question of the year. For starters, he is insufferable to be around. You'd end up bashing his face in with a mallet before your first date ended. He is more annoying than Jessie and James from Team Rocket . . . combined!

Okay, so he's confident and confidence is sexy. Yes, he's also brilliant and brains are hot. Sure, he's quick-witted and compassionate, loves Pokemon . . . Face it, Waterflower, the guy has a heart of gold and a rock hard body to match. Even bantering with him is irritatingly addictive! That awesome tattoo, flirty smile, killer hair, those piercing blue eyes . . .

NO! Snap out of it, girl! You just ended a relationship. You need another man in your life like you need a Caterpie for a wig! Gary lives in an entirely different region anyway. Long-distance relationships, ugh, they never work. And what makes you think he'd even be interested anyway? For all you know he is already dating someone, or, a multitude of someones. Or if he were interested, he might just want some 'recreational mating' like a damn Slowpoke. And you are not that kind of girl. So just cool your hormones. By this time tomorrow you'll be back in Cerulean City and Gary Oak will be here under the expert care of a qualified nurse. There is no reason for your paths to cross again. You can put this unfortunate situation behind you.

Misty nodded definitively to herself. She had presented a convincing case. This was a stupid, lusty infatuation and she knew it.

Fare-thee-well, Oak Crush! Good riddance! This time the imaginary Pokeball went down the well-to-oblivion, too.

Misty rummaged through her overnight bag. It was time to put on some pajamas and start winding down. She had two attire options. The first was a baggy Magikarp set of PJs that Delia Ketchum had given her for Christmas. It was a size-too-big, but the fabric was plush and enfolded her like one of Delia's hugs. Option two was less . . . modest. It was a sultry little top and pant set. The top was black, sleeveless, snug and a mid-drift which showcased her flat swimmers stomach. The matching pants were skin tight leggings. The leggings flaunted sheer mesh stripes, which zig-zagged up the length of her leg from her ankles to the highest points of her thighs. Her sisters referred to these as 'notice me pants', guaranteed to attract attention from the opposite sex. This outfit was a risqué gift from her sister, Lilly. Though it looked a bit racy (okay very racy!), it was surprisingly comfortable. Misty practically lived in this outfit within privacy of her home. And she had worn it several times to yoga class with her sisters. The 'sexy leggings look' was very trendy right now, and Misty never felt out of place wearing them at yoga class. In fact, that was why this outfit was in her suitcase to begin with. Had she not hit Gary with her car, Misty was going to drop in at a local yoga studio to stretch before the long boat ride home.

Daisy, Lilly and Violet always complimented Misty's figure, telling her 'if you've got it, flaunt it!'. But did Misty really want to 'flaunt it' in front of Gary Oak? Nooooo . . .nooo waaaayyyyy, because that would mean that the inconvenient Oak-Crush she'd trapped in an imaginary Pokeball and threw down an invisible couch-well was back. Back and ready to scream: 'You're not the only hot one Gary Oak! I resisted you in the bathroom, now take a look at me, you sexy-ass Buck-a-roo! Try to keep your big manly hands off of THIS! HA!

Misty's confidence blew up and popped within a nanosecond.

She stepped into the baggy Magikarp pants.

And then . . . she changed her mind.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It took the combined efforts of Misty and Arbok to hoist Gary into his bed for the night. Arbok had somehow helped his roomie into a pair of baggy black gym shorts and a simple white t-shirt (that may or may not have showcased his tan skin and sexy muscles). Had Misty known the Pokemon was so damn handy she could have been on the boat home by now!

But she had vowed to the senior Professor Oak that she would care for his grandson. And so Misty fulfilled her duties by propping Gary's casted foot upon a pillow and then draping a blanket over his legs, tucking him in for the night. Smiling, she stood back to admire her handiwork.

Her smile evaporated.

Gary looked about as happy as a Dewgong stranded in the desert. He wore a dramatic pout on his lips like a gaudy fashion accessory. Misty sympathized with his discomfort, but the reality was that Gary had a broken foot. He would have to adjust to the temporary hardship that came with it.

Misty placed a glass of water, as well as Arbok's dinner bell upon his nightstand. She and Gary had mutually agreed that — should he have an emergency overnight — he would ring the bell to alert her. Misty would be able to hear the ringing from where she slept on the living room couch.

Misty was mentally and physically weary, this had been an exceptionally draining (and confusing!) day. It was 'Snorlax time' the moment her head hit those pillows! Her mind was ravenous to unconsciously marinate over the thoughts and feeling bubbling within.

Arbok had now coiled himself upon the foot of Gary's bed, loyally hankering down for the night to supervise his friend. Human and Pokemon exhaled in unison, dueling expressions of relaxation and annoyance.

"Goodnight, Oak," Misty waved as she walked toward the door.

"I doubt it," he sneered, shifting awkwardly upon his mattress.

Misty found that ignoring Gorgeous Grumpy Gary was as easy as breathing. Sleep was beckoning her mercilessly. Within a few minuets she was back in the living room, tucked away and snuggling with a pillow on the couch. As her eyes lulled shut, sweet solace granted her mind permission to . . . just . . . go . . . blank . . .

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

Misty bolted upward in bed! Adrenaline ambushing her!

Gary was ringing his bell!

That meant he had an emergency!

Misty would have bested a Rapidash to his bedside. "Oak?! What's wrong?!" Misty was gasping as Panic squeezed her windpipe.

Gary was still sitting up in bed, arms crossed and looking no more uncomfortable than he had a moment ago.

His sight blatantly frisked her entire body and he nodded with unashamed approval. "We need to talk about your pajamas."

Bewilderment now kicked Panic's ass and fully revived her windpipe for the yelling: "My pajamas?!"

"Did you put those on for me?" Zero shame. He just came right out with it.

"Don't flatter yourself, Oak!" Misty snapped at him, but inwardly squirmed. Of course she HADput this outfit on for him. She wanted him to notice that she could be sexy too! But, Misty certainly never expected him to know that! And she did not think he'd ever confront her about the origin of her outfit choice! Drat! Why didn't she just wear the ugly Magikarp ones? And how DARE he, Mr.-Hard-Thing-in-his-pants when they wrestled, even have the gall to question her attire! Gary was being a total conceited-cocky-perv! If he could question Misty with zero guilt then, by Zapdos, she could too! Confusion may have frozen her vocal chords earlier in the day, but Gary's Flamethrower of Rudeness had officially thawed them out. She was very familiar with the crude shade his sight could cast, and so, Misty channeled her inner Ditto and glared scrutiny back at him full force.

Gary made a face like he'd licked salt off a lemon. THAT was all the motivation Misty needed to proceed.

"So, Oak, you really enjoyed our little remote control wrestling session, didn't ya?"

His expression shifted from regular sour face to suspicious sour face. "Go on."

"Only . . . maybe 'little' isn't the best word to describe it?" she made a gesture with her hands, indicating the growth of an invisible object.

Gary raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What are you trying to say, Waterflower?"

If he could dish out pervy stew, then he'd better be ready to chow down on the leftovers!

"That I could feel just how much you enjoyed wrestling with me because your big, um—"

"ARBOK!" the snake chimed in helpfully.

"Yes, THAT, was pressed into my stomach."

Misty couldn't tell if Gary was trying to smother a smirk or suffocate shame? The two expressions collided clumsily across his face. Within seconds the smirk won the match and Gary wore it like a champions prize.

"Don't flatter yourself, Waterflower," Gary continued as though he were lecturing a pupil, his tone fortified by astute objectivity. "Hormones are biology. What you felt was a pre-programmed physiological response to my body's perceived suggestion of mating. The way in which you were questionably rubbing your body against my groin area caused said response. Accidentally or otherwise is inconsequential. This is an uncontrolled reflex for me, like my pupils dilating when there is a change of light in a room."

Misty's jaw dropped like her bottom teeth were composed of led. WHAT THE HELL?! So Oak was just a nerdier version of Brock? Blaming science!? Forever a slave to his libido? He wasn't even attracted to her?! He didn't 'like' her?! His body just 'reacted'?! And she was NOT questionably rubbing his groin . . . well, maybe she did? It was possible but not purposeful. INSULTING! Brainy Brock Jr. wasn't even ashamed? Apologetic?! Of all the asinine, pathetic, RIDICULOUS-caveman-Taurus-shit. . . AHHHHHHHHHH!

And to think she was crushing on him so hard only moments ago.

WHAT AN ASS!

Misty quickly calculated her two feasible responses:

Option One: CRACK OPEN HIS PRETTY SEX SCIENCE SKULL WITH A MALLET.

Option Two: GET AWAY FROM HIM BEFORE OPTION ONE OCCURRED.

"Know this, Oak!" Misty sounded like a professor now too, Professor Psycho! "The next time I feel THAT BONE I am going to break it! And I won't need my car to do it!" She reeled on her heels, stomping Raging-Stantler-style toward the doorway.

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

"WHHAAAAAAT?!" Misty screamed like a candidate for an exorcism! "Why did you ring your bell?! What's the emergency?!"

"I'm overdue for my pain pills, my anti-inflammatory pills and my antibiotics," Gary stated matter-of-factly, as though immune to her demonic tone. "I won't be able to sleep in this awful position without them. Oh, and, you'd get fired even as a nursing volunteer at a morgue for your bedside manner."

Misty's eyebrow twitched as though her face were now possessed by the fiendish energy. She held out her hand, inches from his face and squeezed the air, imagining that his pretty stupid head were a mere paper cup and that she was crushing it within her fist! She repeated the threatening squashing motion several times.

Gary raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing her odd hand gesture. "Are you pseudo-crushing my face in your hand . . .?"

"Yes!"

He shook his head, as though genuinely pitying her. "Well, that speaks volumes about your mental stability."

"I'm sleep-deprived! I need sleep!"

"What you need, Waterflower, is a good spanking." His voice lowered an octave. "It's incredibly naughty to go around hitting people with cars and then air-crushing their heads."

"Try that and it's not just the head on your shoulders I'll be crushing!"

Preemptively dodging his comeback, Misty fumed to the kitchen and snatched the three bottles of prescription medication that Gary had been sent home from the hospital with. In the Emergency Room he had been given pain medication through an I.V. She was hoping that whatever these tablets were, that they would knock him the hell out. And if they didn't, she would!

The nerve of that Oak! Give ME a spanking?! HA! I know my ass does look quite spankable in these leggings, but, no way any man is spanking my backside when he doesn't actually like my head! Or rather, what's inside my head, AKA ME. SO THERE! Misty squeezed her eyelids shut as hard as possible. She was desperate to blockade the imagery which was breaching her minds-eye! There she was: wantonly bending over Gary Oak's lap; his big hand raised over her backside, preparing to give her a firm slap . . .

NOOOOO! Be gone, thought! BE GONE!

Misty shook her head furiously, striving to shake the image out through her ears and the blush from her cheeks!

Back in his bedroom, Misty shoved the seven tablets at him with his glass of water. He swallowed them right down like a good boy. If only he could learn to swallow his insults as well?

Misty did not spare so much as a 'Goodnight, Oak', before trudging back toward the living room. Within moments she was nestled within the plushy, welcoming couch cushions.

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

Her eyes popped open! Her heart hammering as she raced to Gary's side!

"What? What is it, Oak?!" she was practically panting through a frenzied concoction of grogginess and adrenaline.

Gary still sat upright in bed, his features crossed with annoyance. "Food. I have to take the meds with food or I'll get a stomach ache."

Misty ground her teeth until she tasted enamel powered. She would be forwarding her dental bill directly to Oak. Without a word she — again— hustled to the kitchen and threw together a sandwich for him with whatever she could find. She hoped he liked mayonnaise on cinnamon raisin bread. And, just for texture, she stuck some sliced pickles into the spread. She brought the stinky sandwich to him on a plate with an extra glass of water, just in case he had gulped down his first one. Gary had better choke the sandwich down or choke on it!

"Enjoy. Goodbye. Forever. Hopefully." Her tone was deliberately deadpan. Jigglypuff herself could not have sung Misty's eyelids heavier. She retreated to the couch and collapsed into it's warm embrace.

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

"Oh my gawwwwwd!" Now she was pissed. Properly pissed. Misty stomped into his bedroom dramatically, wild Magmar's would have fled for their lives in her presence.

"WHAAAAT ISSS ITTT, OAAAKKKK!?" She kicked at his nightstand for theatrical effect. It hurt her barefoot, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing so!

"I can't sleep. I need my book. It's on the end table in the living room."

Misty continued her stomping all the way back into the living room. Once there she located TWO books on the end table, and, decided she had best bring him them both or else he would likely change his mind and want the opposite of whatever she brought.

"Here!" Misty chucked the first book at his lap: "Diglett's Digging, Volume Four' — well that sounds like a great bedtime story, or," she pitched the second book, "Anatomy of a Jynx. These both look amazing. Goodnight, Oak. And you'd better not ring that bell again unless you are dying!"

This time Misty didn't even make it back to the couch before he rang the bell!

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

"WHAAAAAT?!" Professor Oak Senior probably heard her yell all the way at the Safari Zone!

"My glasses," Gary announced casually, "I can't read without my glasses."

Misty paused, curiosity thieving a teenie-tiny sliver of her rage: "You need glasses?"

"Just for reading. I get a headache otherwise." He made that pathetic pouty-face again that, under normal circumstances, would have been damn adorable. But Misty just wanted to slap it clear off his face.

"Fine! Where are your glasses?"

"In the kitchen drawer, next to the stove."

Tropical Storm Misty raged through the kitchen, knocking over a bar stool and a lamp that were unfortunate enough to be in her path. She retrieved the glasses case and hurled it with force that would impress a Rock Throwing Graveler!

Gary easily caught the case and shook his head, disapproving of her outrage.

"YOU'RE WELCOME!"

By Moltres! Would it kill him to say 'THANK YOU'!

"Do you need anything else, Oak? Anything else at all? Perhaps a postcard from your grandfather at the Safari Zone? A plushy Bulbasaur doll to match your panties? Or maybe I can go out and catch you a real Bulbasaur? Like a rare golden one? Speak now or stuff it until tomorrow. I am TIRED! I am not coming back through this door!"

"Well," Gary fiddled casually with the glasses case in his hands. He hadn't so much as flinched during her outburst. "I can't think of anything at this moment, but I can't promise that I won't think of something else later."

"Gary Oak, if you ring that bell one more time I swear to Articuno, Zapdos AND Moltres that I WILL break your other foot too!"

"You gonna drive your car into my bedroom and run me down?"

"No, but I WILL grab your foot with my bare hands and snap your toes like twigs!"

"Rude." Gary stated dully.

Arbok hissed, apparently agreeing.

A tentative frown found Gary's lips. His stare, like a lapis tide, thoughtfully rose upward to meet her own. "Something bothering you, Waterflower?" His inflection remained that of an observant scientist, but . . . there was an undertone of something closely resembling the second cousin of sensitivity. "You're acting unusually hostile. While I may be an expert on Pokemon behavior, my . . . skills are not always matched in female behavior."

If Misty's jaw dropped any further south she was going to need a surgeon to reattach it. Three doctoral graduate degrees and he could not pass Misty Waterflower 101. Gary Oak was either making a very stupid joke. Playing stupid. WAS just plain obliviously stupid. OR, he was the most stupid-smoking-hot-trying-to-appologize-but-a-terrible-wordsmith creature she had ever met.

There were about one hundred things she wanted to say (or scream) to him. Instead she turned around, walked out the door and slammed it tightly shut behind her. Misty marched back to the couch and plunged into the cushions. She was finally so comfy, so warm, so . . . asleep. She was finally asleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

NO!

Misty HAD IT! She glanced at the clock. She had passed out, but only been asleep for fifteen minuets! How dare he bother her AGAIN!

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

She covered her ears with pillows.

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Act like a spoiled brat and get treated like one. Misty would not continue to reinforce his bad behavior by running to his aid.

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

Oak would eventually give up and GO TO SLEEP like the bratty baby boy that he was.

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

~*RING~*RING~*RING~*

Misty embraced the sound as a lullaby and drifted off to Slumberland.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Arrrrbokkkk?"

Dreaming was the best.

In Misty's dream she played the role of an egg. A very warm and happy egg nestled securely within the plump pouch of a Chansey. This blissful Chansey was even singing her a song.

"Arrrrbokkkk! Arrrrbokkkk!"

But . . . why was Chansey saying 'Arbok'? That was a shabby tune.

"W-What?" The happy and warm Misty egg cracked open in unison with her eyes. Her lids were so darn heavy it felt a though a real Chansey were sitting on her face.

Misty sat up as reality dawned disappointment upon her.

Through the darkness Misty identified Arbok's reptilian face. The Pokemon was looming over her like a reading lamp from the back of the couch. His scaly pipe-cleaner body was noticeably trembling.

How had he gotten out of Gary's bedroom? Misty knew that she had shut the door. Without thumbs the Pokemon must have gone through tremendous effort to coil around the knob and pull on it to get free.

She reached out to stroke Arbok, but he dodged her as his head jutted about like a fishing bobber. Amassing her senses, Misty glanced at the nearby clock. 2:02AM. Ugh. She'd barely slept.

"Arbok…kkkkk….bok . . ." the snake was terribly antsy. Was he hungry?

Misty stretched and allowed Arbok to lead her to what he wanted. She assumed that he was taking her to his food bowl. Instead he bolted like lavender lightning toward Gary's bedroom.

Misty felt her guts twist as though they had now transformed into tiny, writhing Arboks.

Gary's door was wide open. Misty quickly flicked on the light-switch, winching as her pupils protested.

The young professor was just . . . laying there. He was sound asleep in his bed.

Gary did not stir as the light fixture illuminated the room.

Misty paused to assess the scene as Arbok incessantly chirped at her from the floor.

Gary had fallen asleep with his glasses on, and (the admittance pained her more than the sudden light) he was cute.

No, more than cute.

Cute was a fallacy, a pitiful understatement.

Gary Oak was stunning.

The spectacles were antique brass and perfectly round, a pair befitting a proper professor. Sleep liberated all pomposity from his features. Gary was a composition of innocent humbleness. She wondered how many other girls had borne witness to him . . . like this? Raw . . . vulnerable . . . able to effortlessly ransack her of morals, common sense and the ability to breath? Had dozens of random floozies shared this captivating image? Or was 'Unguarded Gary' a sight rarer than Mew?

Misty was jerked from her deliberations as she studied Gary's hair. His hair was a mahogany mess, it appeared to be glued haphazardly all over his forehead and pillow. Only it was not glue weighing his spikes down, it was moisture. Hadn't Gary's hair been dry when he went to bed?

Arbok slithered onto the bed and hissed directly inside Gary's ear. Misty shuddered at how creepy that must have felt, but, Gary did not react at all.

Misty now noticed that his bell had been knocked to the floor along with his water glass and half eaten sandwich.

"Oak?" she leaned over him, tapping his shoulder. "Oak?"

Unresponsive.

Misty lay a hand on his chest and another on his face. Instantly she recoiled, unprepared to feel skin like a freshly laid Charizard egg! He was breathing heavily, chest laboring and his white t-shirt soaked from sweat.

"Oak?!" Misty had ignored his frantic bell ringing — he'd been annoying the hell out of her all night! And now, when he was actually in distress, she had ignored him.

Misty knew that she needed to call emergency services at once.

She knew that both of the Professor Oaks would likely press criminal charges on her now.

She also knew that the previous fact did not matter one bit.

Because the most important thing that Misty knew was this: Gary could be in serious danger.

Danger because of her.

This knowledge was unbearable.

"Oak! Gary, please answer me!" Liquid Regret ran down her right check as fluid Fear fell down her left. This woeful composition of tears nearly obscured her sight, causing her fingers to blindly fumble about his chest. Feeling his shirt collar, Misty seized it and shook Gary Oak harder than she had EVER shook Ash Ketchum in her entire life! "Gary, wake the hell up! Please, please, please. . ."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Please wake up, Gary, please!" Misty gripped his shirt collar like a life-raft, digging into the fabric as though his mortality depended on her physical strength alone. "Don't you dare do this to me! WAKE UP!"

She shook him.

Hard.

Hard enough to jar the senses out of a conscious man and (hopefully) back into an unconscious one.

Hard enough that his glasses nearly fell from his face and Misty had to quickly secure them.

Tears blurred her eyes as Gary's head hung limply backward. He was too heavy for her to hold up much longer, she wasn't sure if she could even shake him again.

" . . . mmmm . . . "

Misty froze.

Gary's lips moved as he tried, and failed, to formulate a word. Dark lashes gave a glimpse of woozy blue.

Misty tightened her grasp on his shirt collar and rattled his frame once more. Gary's lashes fluttered again as though mocking her, not yet convinced that they should grant vitality to his eyes. He was trying to wake, but his consciousness was threatening to abandon him again. If jostling his body wasn't powerful enough to rouse him, then maybe zeroing-in on his eardrums would be!

"OOOAAAKKK!" Misty's sheer volume could've summoned Gary's ancestors from their graves!

"ARBOOOOKK!" And when the snake harmonized with her, they were loud enough to raise an army of Oak descendants!

Gary bolted upward like he'd been hit with a defibrillator in the groin! He gasped, the bewilderment within his eyes was magnified by his glasses.

"Are you alright?" Misty released his shirt collar and clutched his face between her hands. His fevered skin was slick as though he'd just washed with butter.

Gary shook his own head now, as if trying to fling the invisible butter from his face. "Medi-medication rea-ct-ion," he slurred, still processing reality.

"Medication reaction?" Misty repeated. Continuing to squeezing his face between her hands, she stilled him and forced eye contact. "I'll call an ambulance, okay? Just hang in there. I'm so sorry!"

"No," Gary stiffened, seeming to become suddenly very alert. Disorientation was replaced by obstinance. "No hospital. I'll be okay."

"You don't look okay."

"I'll be okay, dammit." He jerked his face from her grasp. "It's a just bad reaction to one of the medications. I probably shouldn't have taken them all together like that. Don't overreact."

"Don't overreact?! You blacked out. You're fevered and sweat through all of your clothes! Why didn't you yell out for me? Or call for help on your cellphone?"

"I did yell for you, but you obviously didn't hear me and my cellphone is still in the living room. I rang the bell for you to get it, but you ignored me."

"You were driving me crazy! Just ringing that stupid bell over and over. I thought you were just being an ass."

"I was being an ass. I liked watching yours walk out the door, okay? What's done is done. Just calm down, will ya?"

Emotion hijacked Misty's voice, she couldn't event register the (sort of) compliment he'd just dealt her. "You . . . you scared me, Gary."

"Don't start," he spat the words like a curse, but . . . paused, seeming to notice the genuine fear on her face for the first time. Gary's expression thawed. "Seriously, though, Waterflower," he reached for her trembling hand and laced his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "I'm okay. It's run its course, alright?" his big fingers rolled hers over, as though trying to kneed reassurance into her skin. Gary summoned his bravado and smiled. "I'm sorry that I scared you."

Misty cast her sight from his face. She was a failure. Here was Oak: having a medical reaction to the drugs that HE needed due to the foot that SHE broke, and HE was comforting HER!

"I thought for a moment . . . I thought I killed you." Misty placed her other hand atop the one he held, sandwiching him with affection.

She glanced up to see him playfully wrinkle his nose. "Ha, if you couldn't kill me with your car or your poor wrestling skills or your terrible sandwich making, you're not gunna kill me now." He grinned a torturously-teasing grin, tucking a renegade wisp of hair behind her ear. Misty shuddered involuntarily as his fevered skin grazed hers. That invisible Charizard had returned, causing her face to flush—NO! Stop it, Waterflower. There is no Charizard. Time to admit it . . .

The arousing effect Gary Oak had on her was now as undeniable as it was unnerving. It would be easier to convince herself that Metapod's could climb trees, than it was to deny that she wanted to climb Gary like one! The realization frightened Misty. But did it frighten her more than what she had just experienced? The scare of losing him?

Misty wanted to laugh at his previous words, and then she wanted to slap him for insulting her. But instead she wrapped her arms around Gary, breathing deeply into his neck. She did not care that he was sweating and fevered, only that he was alright.

Gary stiffened at first, startled by her unexpected embrace. But then Misty felt his strong arms envelop her body, his chin resting atop her head. Misty inhaled Gary: manly shower gel, manly sweat and manly pheromones that caused her pulse to skyrocket!

"Hey, Misty, I'm okay, alright?" he exhaled the reassurance into her ear. His chest vibrating against her own as he spoke.

Misty began to pull away from him, hoping he did not feel her tremor in response to his voice, his scent, his touch . . . but his hands slid from where they innocently wrapped her shoulders, down her waist and caressed her lower back.

"Misty," Gary's lips skimmed her temple. "I like saying your first name." He smiled against her ear. And that smile was nuclear-charged! Explosions of lust and confusion ricocheted from ear canal to erogenous zone. If Gary was really okay, then Misty needed to take her leave of him. She needed space to feel whatever-the-hell she was feeling and sort it out.

Gary's hands slid from Misty's back to her hands again. He began stroking her fingers intensely.

"Misty," that hypnotic low voice, it possessed her sight to merge with his own. The air between them seemed to sizzle with fireworks of sapphire and emerald. "Stay with me tonight?"

Misty blinked, instantaneously ending the fireworks show. She was totally taken aback by his question. Surely he was asking innocently . . .?! He would not be so presumptuous to assume that she would do anything but sleep next to him?!

But Gary's eyes were lusty and the stroking of his fingers had become sensual. Misty had to stop him. She had to do something before this one-footed-god-of-a-man seduced her! Her best defense had always been her sharp tongue.

"You're hardly in the condition to thrill me, Oak." Misty laughed as casually as her acting talents would allow. She yanked her hands from his and tisked at him.

The professors spectacles did nothing to dull his salacious stare. "I'd only need my mouth and my hands."

Misty scoffed, standing up to put distance between them. "Yeah, okay, Oak— "

Gary interrupted her. His voice was so low, drenched in sultry confidence . . . Misty could feel him inside her mind, inside her thighs: "If you let me kiss you . . . if I got my hands on you, you'd never want to leave this bed."

Misty needed to get out of this room.

Right now.

"Goodnight, Oak," she breathed, unable to look at him. Unable to bare any emotion she might find upon his face — whether it be jesting cockiness or animalistic lust — because the one emotion that she wanted to see . . .

. . . Misty knew it would not be there.

"Goodnight, Misty."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hours later and Misty had slept the sleep all girls experience when they realize that:

They have fallen for a guy.

All he's interested in is sex.

So, the 'not a damned wink' kind of sleep.

It was 9 AM and Gary and Arbok were both snoozing peacefully in the bedroom. Misty knew this because she had checked on them several times throughout the night (in-between tears of frustration and 'girl power' self-pep-talks).

Sometime around sunrise Misty admitted to herself that: she had been harboring a secret crush on Gary Oak since she was twelve years old.

By 7AM she cursed him for being so multidimensional. Why couldn't he just be the cocky playboy who'd tried to lure her into bed last night? That type of guy was easy to get out of your system and shake off. That guy wasn't worth losing sleep over. Why did Gary have to have save Arbok like he did? Proving that he was compassionate and sensitive inside. Why did he have to be funny, handsome, brilliant and so damn complex and fascinating?

Misty helped herself to a shower followed by a cup of tea and some toast. Her stomach was in knots and she could not imagine choking down solid food beyond that. Gary would wake up anytime now, she was certain. The home nurse was due within the hour, and Misty was hoping that he or she would arrive before Gary woke up. Then Misty could just leave, not look back and never have to deal with an awkward moment, or worse, feel her body come alive in Gary Oak's presence again.

Packing her suitcase was somehow therapeutic. Misty crammed her sexy pajamas back inside. Should she have worn them? Worn them just to 'one up' him their silent little game? Had they given Gary the wrong impression? Well, she did want him to get the wrong impression, sort of, right? So was it even a wrong impression? No. It wasn't. She wanted him. The only part that was wrong was that . . . 'sex' meant something different to him than it did to her. And as much as Misty did want him, she wasn't comfortable 'going all the way' with someone who she wasn't actually dating. And more importantly, someone who didn't care about her and share romantic feelings. Misty was a grown, sexually experienced woman, but she had never had a 'one night stand' and she wasn't looking for one now.

This morning Misty changed into simple jeans and a hooded gray sweatshirt. An outfit that hid her figure (and hopefully) her feelings.

Misty heard the shower spritz to life in the bathroom. Apparently Arbok was able to move Gary on his own, without her help. She was beginning to feel foolish for even being here. He never even needed her help! Arbok had helped Gary dress last night, helped him shower and was now transporting him easily about the apartment. Her being here was a joke and she was sure the two roommates would have a good laugh after she left. Why did Gary even have her stay here to begin with? Yes, it was his grandfathers idea; but Gary was a grown man, he could have refused. Was it just to torture her and make her feel worse for the car accident? Or, being a designated 'ladies man', was his plan all along to seduce and then shoo her away? Misty was ashamed of herself for letting him get to her, when she'd obviously not had any effect on him other than his —

"ARBOK!" The giant lavender snake appeared, resting his head on her suitcase.

"Good morning, Arbok," Misty forced a smile. Gary was a jerk. Chaz was a jerk. Different kinds of jerks, but still jerks. Arbok was not, he just had the misfortune of hanging out with them. Misty stroked his head and he cooed sweetly, his tongue tickling her cheeks.

"Arboook?" he glanced at her suitcase.

"I'm leaving, I have to go home. Besides, I think you're more capable than me of taking care of Oak." She walked over to the counter and pointed to a note she had written. "Can you please make sure the home nurse sees this? I explained about Gary's reaction to those pills. This way something safer can be prescribed for him, okay?"

"Bok." Arbok nodded, looking quite sad.

"Should Oak really be alone in the bathroom right now?"

Arbok hissed as though he were laughing and nodded. But, to humor her, he slithered toward the bathroom door and let himself inside.

It only took Misty a few minutes to finish packing her things. She sighed, trying to beat back disappointment—No, that's an understatement, Waterflower. Let's try 'overwhelming regret'.

Misty headed for the door.

"Misty, wait . . . you're breaking more than my foot if you leave like this."  
Misty stiffened and turned around.

Gary was leaning on Arbok like a crutch. The guys were 'standing' (very awkwardly) several feet behind her. Gary's hair was wet and wild from the shower. He had on another pair of athletic shorts and a fitted blue t-shirt. The shirt looked like it was custom tailored to match the hue of his eyes. He smiled a smile that Misty had never seen on him before . . . it was . . . shy. Gary no longer wore his glasses, but he did wear the same unguarded expression she had adored about his sleeping face.

"Breaking your ego, perhaps?" her tone was snippy by design.

He flinched at her curt words and raised his left hand, laying it directly over his heart. "I like you, Misty. I don't want you to leave like this . . . mad at me."

He . . . likes me?! Easy girl, warned the 'voice of reason' who had been giving her pep-talks all night long. Don't let him off that easily . . .

"I'm sorry about last night, Misty. I was completely out of line coming on to you like that." Gary and Arbok hobbled pathetically toward her. Gary was exerting great effort and enduring great pain to close the distance between them. Despite his discomfort he offered her a sheepish smile and extended his hand. "Can you please forgive me?"

Screw it, her 'voice of UNreason' exclaimed, he's gorgeous, he's sincere and you've liked the guy for nearly 15 years. Forgive him, Waterflower. PLEASE!

No! Not so fast, came her 'voice of reason' again. He insulted the hell out of you a multitude of times. Did you forget about Brainy Brock Jr?! Remember all that scientific mumbo-jumbo about him only becoming aroused as a 'physiological response' to wresting with you, blah blah blah!? If Oak really likes you, he needs to back that up.

Misty carefully eyed the hand he'd extended between them. She mustered as much suspicion into her facade as possible. "Put your hand away, Oak. If I touch you, you might experience an uncontrolled physiological response."

His little smile faded. She had killed it. But a thoughtful frown took its place that was —somehow— just as charming. "My physiological response would not have occurred without the added factor of physical attraction." Now a smirk tugged at his lips. "What I mean is, Misty, you're smokin' hot . . . totally beautiful. I, ah, I, um . . ." she'd never imagined Gary at a loss for words. "You turn me on."

Misty clenched her jaw so hard to keep from squealing. Her heart was about to burst from her chest and make a big old mess on his pristine floor.

Gary continued: "You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you in the bathroom last night. And then again in my bed. And . . . how much I still want to right now."

"Yeah, I have an idea." Misty mumble-admitted under her breath, well-knowing that Gary's ears would not register her words. However, Arbok's Pokemon hearing was vastly superior. His reptilian eyes squinted, head cocking judgmentally to the side. Through expression alone Arbok CLEARLY communicated the following:

"You and I both know you wanna do a helllll of a lot more than kiss him! AND you want him to do a hellllllll of a lot more than kiss you! So STOP torturing my BFF already! Kiss and make up!"

Gary was oblivious to the 'Human-Pokemon facial expression exchange.' He simply noticed Misty faltering to respond to his kissing confession. Gary was clearly uncertain if her hesitation was positive or negative. After a moment he landed on optimism, and again extended his hand to Misty. He winced against the obvious pain he was abiding to remain standing on one foot and leaning on his snake (who looked equally uncomfortable).

OMG! C'mon, girl. FORGIVE HIM!

Misty greedily gathered her wits like candy spilling from a piñata.

No. Not . . . yet. Think with your head, Waterflower. Ignore the snake, ignore the thing behind your ribs and between your legs!

"Put your hand away, Oak, I'm not going to be one of the ladies who gives you 'sympathy sex'. You made it pretty clear yesterday how grateful you were to me for providing that window of opportunity. I'm not falling victim to your professional womanizing playboy ways! I'm not that kind of girl. And if you think that I am then we've had an outright misunderstanding."

His shy smile was reborn. "I know you're not 'that kind' of girl, Misty. I'm insanely attracted to you and I got carried away last night. You were so concerned for me and . . . it meant something. Regardless, that's on me. I can't blame the fever or the pills or even your sexy-ass leggings, just my dumbass over-eager self." A blush stained Gary's cheeks and he ran a nervous hand through his damp hair. "I hope to Zapdos I haven't ruined your opinion of me. That might sound lame, but it's me being totally honest." He cocked an eyebrow now. "I have to ask, do you really think that I'm a 'professional womanizing playboy'?"

Misty only nodded and Gary lowered his hand in surrender, continuing: "Okay, I'm just gunna continue vomiting honesty here: sure, I've had a few girlfriends and a handful of one night stands. But, I'm hardly a 'professional womanizing playboy'." he actually laughed. "Though, I'm sort of half-flattered-half-insulted that you think so. The only head which frequents my pillow is Arbok's. In fact, I haven't even been on a date in several months. My professional life has been so demanding that my personal one is basically non-existent. Although, it sure would be nice to go on a date sometime. Hint, hint!"

A DATE! OMG! C'mon, girl! FORGIVE HIM ALREADY! He's not a professional womanizing playboy. He admitted that he made a mistake, and knowing Oak that can't be easy for him to do. If you don't forgive him, I swear to Motlres, you'll regret this moment for the rest of your life. He's clearly embarrassed and remorseful so GIVE HIM A CHANCE! If he can forgive you for hitting him with your car, you can forgive him now! You want to forgive him, Waterflower. You want this more than you've wanted anything in a long, loooong time.

Gary pressed onward: "Arbok and I are going to visit grandad's lab in Pallet next weekend. We could, you know, hobble by Cerulean city on our way . . . maybe limp on over to your gym?"

"YES!" Misty's heart did explode, directly out her mouth! "You have to come to my place! I would love to show you and Arbok the gym, and you can meet my Pokemon and I can make you dinner!"

Gary grinned as though he'd just discovered a new Pokemon species. "I would love a tour of your gym and to meet your Pokémon. BUT let's go to a restaurant? After that awful sandwich you made me, I'm a lot more interested in your company versus your cooking."

"Deal?" Now Missy extended her hand, inviting a handshake.

Gary accepted her hand, but pulled her into his arms.

"I think a kiss is more binding to seal our date contract than a handshake."

"Easy Oak, you'll have to work hard to earn access to my lips," she paused, smiling coyly. "However, I'm willing to compromise. You may kiss my hand instead of shaking it."

Gary accepted her hand and placed a chaste kiss upon her knuckles. Misty felt the kiss transform into a hopeful little smile. He lingered there, as though trying to press the smile into her flesh like a stamp of endearment.

"I forgive you." she breathed, closing her eyes and savoring the feel of Gary's lips upon her skin.

Gary clasped her hand between his, moving in closer. He was so near that Misty could kiss him. But she hugged him instead. Hugged him hard. If it hadn't been for Arbok they may have tumbled to the floor!

"I forgive you," Misty repeated, squeezing Gary so tightly that he winced.

"Sore ribs," he laughed.

"Oops," she relaxed her grip slightly, peering up at him. Anticipation played blissfully upon her features. "I like you, too, a lot."

"That's a relief cuz I've been crushing on you since I was ten," he admitted, his hands were now on her waist, forehead resting against hers. "That's not creepy is it?"

Misty gave him a melodramatic frown. "Oh, yikes, yeah, it is actually. Really creepy. I'm not sure I should be talking to you." For a moment he looked concerned that she was telling the truth. "Haha, relax, Oak. I kinda maybe sorta have liked you since then, too. You were horribly annoying back then," she paused. "okay, you still are, but in an attractive sort of way."

"Touché." He beamed down at her, dimples in all their Gary Glory. "I'm going to say something else that may come out as creepy."

"Disclaimer in place. Proceed," Misty's fingers suddenly felt obliged to roam across his hard abdominal muscles. Their proximity enchanted her curiosity and teased her self-control.

"Your ex-boyfriend. The asshole. If I ever meet him, I am going to punch him. But not before I thank the bastard for being a bastard. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have Arbok or you right here, right now."

"Charrrrbokaaaa!" Arbok peeked over Gary's shoulder, nodding enthusiastically.

"Noted. And the creep-factor is low due to the sweet-factor being high. Sooooo, I guess we should really give this a chance then? You and me, well, and Arbok too, of course." Misty was fidgeting with the bottom hem of his t-shirt, feeling quite irritated with the fabric for blockading his flesh from her fingers. "A real date?" she continued, her hands sliding upward, slowly admiring his entire torso . . . abs, ribs, pectorals, and coming to rest upon his broad shoulders.

Gary had been a proper gentleman up to this point, his hands remained virtuously around her waist. But Misty could sense that she was testing the limits of his chivalrous resolve.

"A real date," Gary agreed, entertained by her bold exploration of his chest.

"Until then," Misty shimmied from Gary's arms and began relocating him toward the couch. Arbok was not going to be able to 'play crutch' much longer. "I'll hang out with you until the home nurse arrives. The nurse should be here anytime now."

Together they plopped down on the couch. Misty helped Gary prop his broken foot on the coffee table. Next she took the liberty of draping his arm around her. He laughed, approving of her forward affection.

"Can I interest you in finishing the Slowpoke documentary?"

"Can I interest you in another broken foot?"

"Can I interest you in that kiss?"

Misty did not reply with words.

Her time here, with this man, was rapidly coming to an end. The realization of this deadline slammed her! Fortifying her willpower against him last night had been torturous. How he'd stood in the bathroom, nearly naked and vexing her. And here he was now . . . beyond receptive, no more games. Misty's vision and fingers were compelled to commit Gary Oak to memory.

Little hands became adventuresome — yearning for an exploratory tour of the gorgeous male artifact before her. Misty reached forward, boldly cupping Gary's face as though he were an exquisitely rare chalice. Her sight traversed his features, memorizing the curve of his cheeks and the dimples that appeared as he smiled within her grasp. She admired Gary's lips as they parted, as he exhaled a breath she'd not known he'd been holding. This singular breath seemed to touch Misty in the most intimate places and her body began to ache with every beat of her heart. His lips . . . the allure of them cast a spell upon her sight, tempting her like a forbidden idol. Those lips led to the ultimate venture, to a destination of where — dared she journey forth — she could never return. It was a venture wrought with risk, not to her physical body . . . but to her heart.

Misty had always craved the taste of Risk.

She could feel his eyes upon her, and her own were now drawn upward to meet them. Which sight was more spectacular to behold, that of the sunrise or sunset? Gary's eyes and lips were both so flawlessly crafted, as though by a divine hand. Misty wished that she could somehow grant them both the full attention they deserved, but her mortal eyes were not skilled enough to do so.

Like discovering a solitary flame within a blizzard did Gary's eyes captive her. Twin cobalt lures, drawing her in with their mesmerizing, imperative heat. Conflicting desires of carnal yearning and innocent affection radiated upon her, until Misty was forced to blink or else burn.

With her eyes closed, Misty's fingers led The Expedition of Gary Oak. His skin was warm beneath her thumbs. She traced the smooth skin around his mouth. He was freshly shaven. As her fingers grazed his lips she felt him tremble. In unison with her eyes, Gary's lips opened. He bit down upon the lower one, failing to stifle a moan. She had caused that. She had drawn a guttural sound of pleasure from this beautiful man. This awareness infused her hands with courage. Up climbed her fingers, claiming fistfuls of his wild russet hair. Each hand greedily ensnared their fill — tightly— and she yanked backward, directing his head downward; controlling the tilt so that his mouth was inches from her own.

She did not need Arbok's humorous interjection to know that Gary was aroused. His longing for her permeated the very oxygen between them.

Gary closed his eyes, his own hands remained unmoving. He was not challenging Misty, he was willingly surrendering to her.

Misty guided his face closer still, close enough that she could breath into his parting lips. "You are so damn sexy, Oak." She murmured and his face shivered within her grasp.

*~BeEp~BeEp~*

They jumped at the familiar sound of a car alarm locking! Arbok zig-zagged to the window and glanced back at them nodding, confirming that the home nurse had arrived. The nurse was likely gathering his or her things and would head up the walkway and into the apartment within a few minutes.

Disappointment assaulted them like a Sludge Bomb from the world's most powerful Weezing.

With the reluctance of the final leaf from an autumn Oak tree did Misty's hands fall from his hair.

Misty avoided Gary's eyes. Sadness and embarrassment ambushing her features as she stood up, preparing to head to the front door to greet the nurse.

But then Gary's hand was on her forearm. Expression cast in unashamed resolve, he pulled Misty back downward. Strong hands were now in her hair, seizing fistfuls he turned her face toward him. A light-show of azure confidence gazed upon her and Gary . . . grinned.

Gary grinned a grin derived from devilish desire. And now he offered his desire to her. Gary's lips were upon Misty's lips, branding her with his unbearable need to finally taste her.

Misty shut her eyes, quivering as an oppressive fever ravaged her system. She willingly allowed herself to burn, to just . . .

. . .feel.

In this moment Professor Pompous had become Professor Passion.

The couch was his laboratory and she had become his willing test subject. The fingers in her hair were his instruments which guided her face downward. He tilted her head to the perfectly calculated angle to grant himself full access to her mouth. His own mouth maneuvered expertly over hers. He sampled her lips and her tongue, ravenous to acquire every detail of how they chemically reacted together. It was as though he desperately wanted his next doctoral thesis to be on her.

The flavor of Gary Oak was like a euphoric drug upon her tongue, and prolonged exposure ran the risk of addiction. Shockwaves of paralyzing ecstasy lit her bloodstream. Misty's very bones seemed to liquify. Her pulse thudded within her ears, within her wrists, deep inside her belly and between her tights. Misty was raw organic material within his practiced, capable hands. He was the chemist capable of synthesizing the most sinful mixture. He could be generous one moment and torturously withholding the next.

As though sensing her need for oxygen, Gary's lips migrated down her jawline, her chin and now down her throat. He used painstaking precision, not neglecting a centimeter of skin on his decent. If he were testing the theory that she enjoyed his mouth on her neck, he was correct. His lips defined 'controlled lust'— methodically kissing, suckling, nibbling her neckline. Misty squirmed as pleasure sent tremors through her body. Gary felt her response and moaned into her throat, the vibrations of which only caused her to trembled harder. His grip in her hair tightened, he was strong enough to still her with ease. The professor would not allow his examinee to succumb to his oral ministrations. He was not finished with her. His research was still incomplete.

*~KNOCK~KNOCK~KNOCK~*

"Ignore it." Gary nearly growled into her ear. A carnal whimper was her only response as his mouth was upon hers again. But this time they indulged in a slower kiss . . . a rhythmic fusion of lips upon lips. Misty had always thought of kissing as an art form, but maybe it was a form of science instead? Gary had otherworldly attention-to-detail, noting exactly which of his intimate actions caused the most intense physiological reactions from her. He could then masterfully replicate those results, and even intensify them, with ease.

Misty kissed Gary back with all of the energy she could muster, there were no precise calculations factored into her kisses. Misty operated on raw instinct, following Gary's lead. She graciously accepted all of the generosity his mouth granted her and returned it.

*~KNOCK~KNOCK~KNOCK~*

In a moment Gary pulled back, just slightly. The separation from him was unacceptable to every cell in her body. It were as though gravity were drawing their lips together, like powerful magnets, and the effort to pull a part was near pain.

*~KNOCK~KNOCK~KNOCK~*

His will-power far exceeded her own. Gary's lips debated with hers, and then departed. He landed a final chaste kiss upon her forehead. His lips lingered upon her heated brow as though he were trying so hard to press his unspoken affections for her right there, as though they would somehow seep into her mind and remain there forever.

*~KNOCK~KNOCK~KNOCK~*

Misty jarred herself back to reality, opening her eyes for the first time in . . . how long had they been kissing? Time and space seemed meaningless right now. She glanced at the door, gasping at the fact that the poor home nurse was banging away. Misty had to pull herself together and let the person inside!

Gary's hands were still in her hair, he released her locks and grazed his thumb across her lower lip, attracting her attention from the nurse and back onto him. He studied her, noting every reaction generated by his display of sensuality. He was searching for lust, searching for yearning, searching for admiration. But more so, he was hunting for her genuine affection. For these were the same sensations radiating from him.

Misty stood up. Gary raised a hand over his own mouth, breathing into it, attempting to steady himself biologically and mentally. Finally he lowered it, revealing a slightly swollen smile. "Damn, girl." he panted. "Um, hey, please pass me that blanket, will ya? I have to cover up before that nurse comes in . . ." he gestured downward to his shorts, and it was blatantly obvious what he had to cover up.

Misty giggled, raising an impressed eyebrow she handed him a blanket. "I'm glad I hit you with my car, Gary."

"Me too."

The End


End file.
